Interlude - Keats epilogue

 Last night was bad.  Chastity’s wife woke her with urgent hisses in a language that Chastity didn’t understand but is beginning to recognise as Antiochian.  Chastity let herself be led out through the house, hand clasped tight, slipping silent as her wife who carried a sword in her free hand and watched every dark corner and alcove.  Chastity ensured the guards stayed clear.  Then they came out under the trees, and the smell of night-orchids and damp earth, and Chastity’s wife looked around confused, then embarrassed, and let Chastity led her back to bed.

Chastity wipes condensation from the tall bathroom mirror.  It takes a while.  Then she stands back beside her wife and points at her wife’s reflection.

“This is you.”

Chastity’s wife stares at herself, like studying a map of a strange land.  The scars aren’t confined to her face.  Nor are the tattoos anymore: one in Urthish script coiling down her side from shoulder to knee.  Her name, in mirror-writing so that it reads clearly on her reflection. 

She points to one scar on her stomach, frowns, “That was Yannis Three-Fingers.  He gained his freedom too – we got drunk together once – but he didn’t know what to do outside the arena.  He was hung, I think.”

A memory, new to Chastity and lucid.  Chastity rests an arm around her wife’s shoulders.

Her wife stares at herself in the mirror, “This is me.”

*****

“Will I ever have my first mate back?” Cortez walks through the garden beside Chastity.

“She is broken.  She has been broken several times before, and pieced some semblance of herself back together out of necessity, but fragile.  Now, we will help her to do it properly.  It will take time.”

“And she is married to you.  Whenever Keats was noticed by the ladies, he – she – always evaded their attention.  Does she… like ladies?”

“I don’t think she knows herself.  But marriage and sex are not the same thing.  We may take lovers,” Chastity’s smile suggests it might not be that simple, though it could as easily be to tease him.

“Are there subjects I should avoid?”

“No.  Just be patient with her,” Chastity glances up.

Then someone is beside them.  They’d dropped from the tree, but so suddenly and quietly that they seem instead to rise out of the grass.  Unadorned blue cloak that, in crouching, had fanned out and now pulls in; black hair; katana held by its sheath in one hand.

“Mal?!?” but it isn’t.  The hair is dyed, the face scarred and tattooed.  Even the eyes are wrong: now amber.  “Keats!”

Chastity addresses her wife calmly, “Who are you today?”

“Lady Patience Keats Decados.”

“Good.  Then shall I look after that?” Chastity holds out her hand, and Patience passes her the katana: it’s Mal’s.  To Cortez, “I’ll leave her in your care.”

“Do you have news?” Patience demands as soon as Chastity turns away.

“What about?”

“Mal!”

“No.  I am sorry.”

Patience stares at Cortez.  She’d never seen him among trees before, always in ships or spaceports or cities.  He is out of context.  She’s still for a moment, tense, processing the transposition.  Then she grins, hugs him, picks him up and spins.  That’s new.

“Patience Decados?” when he is set down.

“All the other names were tangled.”

“Decados?!?”

“There is nothing left for me in the Justinians.  Only bitterness.  Hemlock,” she says the name as if testing it out, “joined the Decados on his marriage and renounced his Justinian claim.  Though sooner or later someone will notice that the marriage documents all say Tigerlily.  And it simplified my illegitimate inheritance.  I’m sure cousin Suki will do a better job than my father when he dies.”

“And your eyes –” Cortez touches her cheek.

“I can see colour again!” Patience beams, “Though that waistcoat looked better in monochrome.”

“I always liked the blue,” wistful, “I thought they were beautiful.”

“Dead men’s eyes,” Patience frowns, “I considered green, but no-one else had amber eyes.  When I look in the mirror, I see myself,” all stated plainly, undisturbed, as if normal people had trouble with their own reflection.

“What has become of Keats?”

“Hemlock,” she pauses, struggles, “was a lie.  Tigerlily-on-Antioch was a delusion, sort-of, though she’s still part of me.  Keats is part of me too, maybe the biggest part.  You can call me that if you want: it won’t trigger a seizure,” a slight smile.  She’s teasing him, which seems a good sign, or perhaps a fleeting moment of lucidity.  Remembering something, she pulls a ring from her pocket: the nose-ring she’d worn since Antioch, “Can you look after this for me please?”

“Of course,” he pockets it.

They walk under the trees, old friends chatting.  She slips her hand in his.  It’s warm and callused.  While it surprises him, it seems to please her to have that contact.  It’s a while before he realises that it’s her left hand so her right is free to draw – she wears Keats’ knives – and she knows where he is without looking.

Session fifty - The Finale

Mal and Ylanath are confronted by the inquisitor, Father Torquemada. Mal attempts to direct the blame at Sir Ali and accuses him of psychic powers and antimony but the priest seems to be having none of it. Mal is a known recidivist and has been excommunicated by the church, he appears to be the guilty party here. Threatened with the priest's flame gun Mal lays his swords on the table.

Ylanath and Mal are not alone though; Pandemonium Max has been sat across the room and come over to the table. He tries to calm the situation with intimidation but Torquemada is not an easy man to sway from his path and things look set to turn violent.... 

Meanwhile in Sir Ali's apartment Hemlock's mother, the Baroness Esmeraldas welcomes her son and begs him to stop all this foolishness and sit alongside her. Hemlock coldly refuses, demands that she call off the inquisition and when she refuses, strikes her with his frap stick, penetrating the shield she wears.

In the cafe, while Mal laid his swords aside, he still has a knife and he strikes at Torquemada, pinning his hand to the table. Max then headbutts the priest and they subdue Sir Ali, her promises to sign a full confession and provide them with the evidence they need if they end his life quickly rather than handing him to the church for punishment. They agree (although they fully intend to hand him to the "mercies" of the church) and then hastily take him and Torquemada out of the shop.

The apartment is in uproar, Anton and Chastity make short work of the Baroness' guards while Hemlock tries to reason with his mother. She admits that the attack on his uncle's estate when Hemlock and Tiger-Lily were children was punishment on her husband and his brother after they tried to take too much of a cut and cheat the Al Malik's over the illicit artefact smuggling. She fully condoned the attack as, in her mind Tochiro Justinian needed to know his place. It was unfortunate but necessary, but at least her son survived. Hemlock tries to tell her that her son did not in fact survive and that "he" is Tiger-lily and has been all along. She doesn't accept it initially but comes to see the truth. She is bitter and outraged and with venom on her lips Tiger-Lily stikes her again, mortally wounding her. As Anton clears up the guards, Mal, Max and Ylanath arrive while Chastity comforts Tiger-lily as she slowly suffocates her mother, ensuring that she is dead.

With the evidence they need to clear Chastity and Sir Mercucio and the revelation of Count Innocence's involvement meaning he can now invest directly in Corteaz' endeavours the cadre can rest, comfortable that their mission in complete. 

Sir Ali's evidence also clears the charges of smuggling and the "Innocent Pursuit" is released to the Marquis de Havilland once more.

In a final coda Tiger-Lily asks Chastity where they stand now in respect of their engagement. Chastity says that she is her dearest friend and that has not changed. She comes from a noble House where people change physically all the time so she has come to look at the person for who they are, not what they present to the world. She has no closer friend, no one she trusts greater and cannot imagine anyone she would rather have as a partner than Tiger-Lily, or Keats. Keats agrees and thet board Chastity's ship, hand in hand. 

Session forty-nine

Having decided that their next step is to try to obtain evidence of Sir Ali Em Sabu Al Malik's involvement in the conspiracy to implicate Chasitity and Mercucio in antimony, the cadre set out for the city of Archeon.  

They sneak out of Ost, late at night, hidden in the back of a wagon. They head out of the city and into the woods where Chastity's ship is hidden. Boarding the ship they take off and enter low orbit, avoiding Al Malik patrols and sensor sweeps and descending back down to the planet in the hills near Archeon.

Come morning the cadre make their way into the city and locate the fief, and city block where Sir Ali abides. They decide to try to lure him out with a note pretending to come from Sir Hasimir and alluding to knowledge of the Ravenna covens. Mal and Ylanath will meet Ali in a nearby coffee shop while Anton, Hemlock and Chastity plan to gain access to his apartment and search for incriminating evidence.

The note appears to work and Ali heads to the coffee shop. Anton uses his status as a Phoenix Knight to get past the building concierge and they make their way up to Ali's apartment.

As Ali sits down it is obvious he knows who Mal is. He is also accompanied by a priest he introduces as Father Torquemada. Mal begins to realise that Ali's psychic gift of Omen has allowed him some sense of what they planned. He is prepared for them.

When Hemlock, Anton and Chastity enter the apartment they discover an occupant lounging on the couch; Hemlock's mother; the Baroness Esmeraldas Al Malik Justinian...

Interlude - Chastity's warehouse cont.

Hemlock: "Sir Ali seems our obvious first lead.  Sir Mercucio tells us that Sir Ali has a place in the capital, Archeon, but he's known to visit family and his club on Ravenna, and often travels the Jumpweb to secure things for his collection.

"The obvious step is to investigate his home in Archeon, as we might find something of interest there.  Other options are to contact or investigate the Ravenna coven, that is, if Mal can find a way to them.  More complex still, we could present an interesting artefact and see who turns up to buy it.

"We also need to know more about who he is and who his family is.  Where might that be discovered?  Simply investigating his home might give us clues."

Hemlock pauses, changing topic.

"On the framing for antimony, since the perception of truth is more important than actual truth (which itself raises questions about anything and everything claimed as fact by our religion), we need a counter-narrative.  Another perceived truth.  Chastity, do you have copies of the doctored pictures?  If we could edit them to remove the doctoring, and leave them and suggestions of doctoring at Sir Ali's place (or another patsy's) together with documents showing purchase of the planted items, that would give a narrative for a set-up."

Anton De Havilland: De Havilland turns suddenly to look at Hemlock, "Who are you and what have you done to Sir Hemlock? I haven't seen this scheming side to you before now. Perhaps our proximity to Al-Malik space has done something to awaken in you a little of your families pedigree and mannerisms... I certainly agree that our focus remains with Sir Ali. If we cannot find him in Archeon then we will need a covert way of escaping back to Ravenna as we are most of us wanted criminals. Even worse now that we have been sprung from incarceration in an attack. Archeon is a good choice, also likely to be abandoned.  If this man is clever he will have his place watched knowing at some point that an enemy will seek him out there. A trap is very likely.  We need to get there early enough to monitor the place beforehand."

Mal: "The way I see it, we could try and use the fork to draw him out, advertise it as being owned by a known psychic and possible friend of Ali. In a way it is a "psychic artefact", we are just using a different definition of artefact. 

And if we wanted to get into contact with the club on ravena, if  it becomes known that I'm on ravena looking for the club I that might draw them out. Hasimir warned me they had their eyes on me before, so it might be fair to assume they would still want to keep a tab on me..."

Anton De Havilland: "Do we know any faction who isnt monitoring you Mal, our journey here has sprung up a good number of your fan club?"

Mal: "Yes actually, we do. Currently the Al'malik aren't monitoring me... as far as I know. I believe the decados aren't either"

He turns to look at Chastity.

GM - (Chastity): "Who are you again?" Chastity says with a sneer and a glint in her eye

Anton De Havilland: "Surely Chastity you have heard of the Kitchen Fork Fiend of Ravenna, the Salacious Scourge of Silverware.?" Responds De Havilland in a like minded mood

Mal: Mal glares at De Havilland

"That was one time. And anyway, if it wasn't for my magpie nature you wouldn't know what happened in Austrum"

Anton De Havilland: "Yes, kleptomania seems to have an impact on destiny. Steal enough material and eventually one of it will be essential. But I jest of course, the message from Hassimir was clever and I am grateful of your revelation."

Hemlock: "I think it also worth tying my fate and reputation to Chastity's.  If the inquisition is my mother's doing, then she may have the means to stop it.  We can give her a reason to do so, and even make it easy for her by implicating Sir Ali as a patsy.  I was considering a letter along these lines to the Ravenna Town Crier."

Hemlock reads from a scrap of paper he'd written on:

My return to the known works came with mixed feelings.  I was overjoyed that a marriage had been arranged between myself and the Lady Chastity Decados.  Despite the popular perception, Lady Chastity has proved an impeccable guest, excellent companion and stalwart ally.  I was, however, distraught to discover the obviously falsified charges against her.  It seems that some in the church, and society at large, have been taken in by doctored photos and planted "evidence".  I hold out hope of finding a priest with sufficient perspicacity to perform the wedding ceremony. 
Sir Hemlock Justinian.

Anton De Havilland: "I admire the cunning here. My only thought is whether your mother is going to simply suggest that your marriage has been orchestrated through the use of nefarious means and that it should be null and void on that basis. "

"Suggesting that your mind were taken over by a known Antimonist "

Hemlock: "From what I understand, marriage is quite hard to annul.  That would cost some political capital.  And the marriage had already been agreed and arranged by my family.  Going through with it would hardly be surprise eloping.

"But, at this stage at least, I'm not getting married, but expressing the intent to marry.  (Actually getting married would involve finding a willing priest, which could currently be very hazardous.)"

"Hopefully that's enough to worry my mother: she doesn't know where I am exactly, my state of mind, what I've done or whether I've gone through with it yet.  It might have already happened by the time she sees the letter."

GM - Chastity meets Hemlocks gaze. He cannot place the emotions he sees there, he was never that good with reading people, after all

"A priest is easy. I have one of those. The question is whether you want to really put the grashk cat amongst the urrocs and do this properly or just want to throw out a bunch of rumours and idle threats."

Hemlock: "Yes!"

Hemlock gives a strange, cracked laugh.

"But... you should know, on Antioch I ..." a flicker of something disturbed, maybe panic, "I was not myself.  I was under a comfortable delusion and forgot many things.  And I was married.

"I have left that false life, and I think it far enough away not to trouble us.  And the priest need not know.  But you should."

Mal: "Did I set a trend? Do the church like any of us at this point?"

GM - Chastity chuckles and stares off into the middle distance, for a moment she seems almost wistful

"Some of the priesthood adore me... But the Church as a whole is not so keen..."

Hemlock: "Who are the priests that adore you?"

GM - (Chastity): "Heh. At many of my soirées the names given by the guests are very rarely true... If I had ample time and resources I could identify who they truly were... But I can certainly trust my old confessor. He's not of the Urth Orthodox but he is a priest of rank and good standing."

Hemlock: "Then as soon as we have conducted our business here, if it pleases my lady we should go to him and be wed."

Pandemonium Max: Max bursts into the room from wherever he had been lurking. There is the smell of burning about him, and his hands are thick with some sort of black chemical. In his arms he cradles a large transit box bearing the words Intergalactic Cutlery Delivery, 1500 forks (misc assrt.).

"Guys! Guys!" He says breahlessly. "Guess what's arrived? Only the fo..." He stops talking as he finally glances around the room and notices the severe looks directed at him.

He fumbles the transit box behind him trying to keep it out of sight now. "Oh, er... Don't worry. I've, er... Have you seen my '101 Things You Never Knew About How To Hack Jump Gate Keys' book?" He smiles, awkwardly. "No? Er, never mind."

"I'll be in my... er..."

And with that Pandemonium Max sharply turns and leaves, almost fumbling his hidden box, the door closing behind him. Suddenly, the sound of many pieces of cutlery falling to the floor is heard a little way down the corridor. 

"Damn cheap bloody boxes. Oh goddamn."

GM - Chastity stares after Max, somewhat dumbfounded and then suddenly, with a deep inhalation, her composure returns.

She takes a step towards Hemlock and extends her hands to gently take his.

"At present, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be your wife, and I can think of no other that I would trust to be my husband."

Hemlock: Hemlock seems nervous but happy; resolved.

"Then I am blessed."

Mal: "I love weddings, drinks all around!"

GM - Mercucio pipes up "Well isn't this adorable!  You will need to let me know the date in plenty of time as I'll have to speak to my tailor about a new suit."

Anton De Havilland: "Well unless we want to invite the  Inquisition to the service I guess we need to figure out how we get them to start looking for Sir Ali instead, and we also need a way off the planet because at the moment our only way off is impounded and likely now to be under increased security."

"Implicating him seems interesting. "

Hemlock: "Chastity, do you have a copy of any of the doctored images of you?

"Is anyone skilled in forgery?  I hesitate to cast such aspersions, but is it within your capabilities Mal?"

GM - (Chastity): "I don't have any of the images with me, I am loathe to travel with potentially incriminating evidence when attempting to avoid possibly fatal indictment by the authorities.. But as I mentioned before, I do have a ship, with a loyal crew, currently hidden in the woods to the west of the city."

Mal: "I'm afraid forgery is not something I've ever attempted"

Anton De Havilland: "Not sure which is the shorter list we should keep a record of;  things tou have or things you  haven't tried yet"

Interlude - Confessions of a Known Psychic

Whilst on the Innocent Pursuit, after meeting Lady Guinevere, Mal wrote the following letter which he now carries on his person.

The letter is addressed: To the child of Sir Malcolm Hawkwood, to be sent to Lady Guinevere Hawkwood on Leminkainen death of Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.

To my young child,

May this letter find you well. I hope to soon be meeting you. Your mother has most likely told you I have my demons. I have more than that. I have many enemies and a reputation to clear before I can meet you.

I aim to resolve the issues brought about by my previous activity before such time as my return to Leminkainen, but the path I am about to walk will bring me close to my enemies. Not only that, but both the church and these enemies may want me dead before I get the chance to confess my sins. That is why I’ve written this letter. Upon my death, provided it can be found and retrieved, this letter should have been sent to you, and with it it’s contents. I trust that my allies will be able to do this small favour for me, as I wouldn’t trust this task to anyone else. If you are ever to meet Marquis Anton De Havilland or Sir Hemlock Justian, or the Charioteer Guildsman known as Keats, know that they will be a trusted ally and friend to you in my absence.

Inclosed is a small sum of firebirds. It isn’t much, but my life has not been one of frivolity and wealth. Within this letter is also my full account and confession. I hope that this will help in some way clear your own reputation and that of your mothers such that the sullied reputation of our family ends with me. This confession is not a legal document. Acquiring such would be hard for me, but I know the church does not always need Reeves to legalise their proceedings anyway. I would hope that this helps alleviate that which I’ve left behind.

Sincerely, your absent father, Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.

Within the envelope is a secondary envelope, labeled: The full account and confession of Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.

To whomever reads this document,

I openly acknowledge having had no legal council before writing this. I do not see any point in doing so. The church has no reason to suspect me to lie if I’m confessing anyway. After all, if you are reading this I fear I may be either dead or shortly will be if not for this information becoming public knowledge.

Until a few years ago, what I had done felt right. I may have disagreed with how it was done, but I still believed the church was wrong and that the Psychics among us were superior. That belief has since died.

The church is aware that I was a member of the Invisible path. Someone exposed the cell I was a part of and I was apprehended along with many of my fellow members. At the time I had been planning to expose them myself, but didn’t get the chance. 

I then broke out of prison and attempted to track down my fellow members. I do not honestly know what side I was on when I did this. I openly confess at this time to several crimes, including murder, which I committed prior to my apprehension. 

I had intended to reunite with members of the cell, using the company of my cousin, the Marquis De Havilland, for protection. However, in the year after my escape, I was the guest of a Justinian knight, who had another guest at the same time in the form of a Decados Lady. The three of us became good friends, despite our apparent differences, and that turned me towards the path that has led me to remembering who I was and who I wanted to be. Whilst I should have handed myself over to the church there and then I found a pair of members of my old cell who had become acquainted with one Hasimir Torenson, from whom I learnt of a secret coven on Ravenna. This coven was aware of my presence in the local area and had been keeping tabs on me. If I went to the church I might have lost my lead on them, so I stuck to the shadows. I then fell into some trouble with these two individuals, having to then flee to space.

Now several years down the line, the Invisible Path of Ravenna has been resurrected by this club, most notably Victor and Hugo Hawkwood, who are both members of the club and members of the Invisible Path prior to it’s exposure. 

As of the time of writing this confession I am fully intending to see this through to the end. Sir Hasimir has provided information on the fact that the weapons of mass destruction released on the Austrum Isles on Ravenna, were the fault of these two and their wider network. They not only provided these weapons, but he believes they engineered events to launch them. I believe they did this as a part of some, as yet unknown, larger plan that other members of this club may know about. 

I intended on hunting down as much information as I could before confessing my sins, in the hopes of becoming penitent, using my skills to draw out other psychics such as myself.

Signed, Sir Malcolm Hawkwood.

Interlude - In Chastity's warehouse

 Mal: "I think our first step here is simple"

Talking to the whole room, "what do we have on our side at the minute? What pieces other than the 6 of us do we have in play and who are our suspected enemies out there?"

GM:  Chastity speaks up "I have the whiny bitch of a Van Gelder, he might still be of use. I have access to agents in Ost but, as I am actively sought by the Inquisition there is a limit to what they can do for me and how long I will be able to operate here before I will need to move on.

I also have a ship. Its hidden in a clearing in the woods to the west of the city, about a day's walk from here."

Hemlock:  "We have a gate key, should we need it, and if Chastity's agents can recover things from the ship, a blur suit."

"We have the probability that my mother wants to control rather than kill me.  I can imagine ways to use that."

"In terms of objectives, overturning these ridiculous allegations of antimony solves most of our problems.  I've seen that reason rarely enters into a courtroom, much less a church one, but we might yet have some chance.  Chastity, is it all purely based on the Van Gelder's psychic associations?  Or have they manufactured 'evidence'?"

GM – (Chastity): "There is evidence, planted in our belongings and I believe the source is the Al Malik associate of Sir Mercucio's."

Hemlock: "What sort of evidence does one plant to implicate someone in antimony?"

Anton De Havilland:  Once we have an answer above, "I am keen to understand more about the risks and threat of Emereldas Justinian here.  I am willing to accept that a woman of power might choose a husband from a minor noble house if she has reasons to do so but I would like to see what reasons those were.  I don’t yet see what her motivations are.  I would like to understand that more, so it is clearer to me what her aims are concerning Hemlock and you and your father."

"I also need to understand what information we have about the groups or individuals working against you at the moment.  What do we know about them and where they are looking for you at this moment in time?"

The Church is rumoured to have a number of groups who are interested in Antimony.  If we know which group we are facing that might give us more of an idea as to what we might expect to encounter, if they have already identified you are on Criticorum"

"In terms of equipment, then yes, it would be good to have some of our equipment back but I think we can ONLY do that if we are certain the ship is not being watched; and that depends on how quickly the authorities find out we are missing"

"If there is any risk then we must be willing to abandon them for now, in the hope that we may regain them at some point."

"I know little about this country and its authorities.  It would be good to understand how long we can use this place as an escape before we have to find a replacement"

"The way I see it at the moment, there is a shared aim here to clear our names; which from what I hear leads us to the same lady.  We should be under no misapprehensions here, by supporting Lady Chastity we run the risk that we associate ourselves with the same allegations.  Hemlock is clear that he is willing to help."

"Each of us must be willing to make the same commitment if we are stay together.  If anyone is not then they should make it clear now.  I , for one, will support this move.  I also do not believe these allegations."

Mal: "well, we have one advantage in this; my identity and involvement would appear to still be unknown so the authorities shouldn't be looking for me for any new crimes.

I'm not sure how this might help us though..."

Anton De Havilland: "Maybe not the authorities.  I expect The Emerald Lady and her people knows you left Ravenna with us"

"It's possible to get records from planets on who and when we even left Byzantium"

But the authorities don’t have a record of you until they are told to look for you

"It's hard to have a sense of the reach of this individual.  But if Chastity and The Count are impacted then I expect it is more than I expected."

GM – (Chastity): Chastity replies to Hemlock’s question about evidence "It would appear that Mercucio's Al Malik associate has a personal collection of certain occult "esoterica", some of which was planted and ascribed to our ownership. Along with fabricated evidence implicating our involvement in various debased ritual practices. Unfortunately, in my own case, the modification of the pict-images wasn't difficult..."

"In terms of equipment, then yes, it would be good to have some of our equipment back but I think we can ONLY do that if we are certain the ship is not being watched; and that depends on how quickly the authorities find out we are missing"

“Anton, I have paid informants and agents amongst the guilders and Freemen at the port. They could have amble reason to get aboard your ship and remove things, but I dare only use them once in such a way. To do more so would be to invite discovery."

Hemlock: "Someone sufficiently technically skilled might be able to recognize that the pict image was edited.  (And if pict images can be edited without trace, then they're wholly worthless as evidence.) Is Mercucio's associate also being hunted?  Do we have any means to persuade him to admit that the esoterica were his?

"I wonder if I'm coming at this too logically, that truth and reason have no place in a trial, and the best we can do is bring our own influence to bear in whatever means we can to alter its course?"

(Hemlock's past experience might've made him a bit bitter about such things...)

GM – (Chastity): "Dear Hemlock, this would be at best a Courtly trial but most likely a church one - in such "truth" is determined my what can be seen not reasoned. If a thing looks like a thing it is a thing... And they will have much personal testimony to confirm my sinful ways. They will seek to prove that I have a tarnished soul mirror and am beyond their salvation. Appearing before such a court will be a death sentence, the only variable will be the form and speed of the execution."

Anton De Havilland: "Agreed. Truth and Reason do have a place but there needs to be a will to listen to them. This is also the principle challenge we have. Even if we can find evidence to save ourselves, we will need to find an audience willing to listen to and support it. Without that, all our efforts will be for nothing"

"If Hemlock's mother has that much influence on Criticorum, how do we find someone willing to listen to us, to want to oppose her."

"I think the answer could rest with Hemlock."

GM: Chastity looks at Anton with curiosity "What are you saying De Havilland? Are you intending to throw Hemlock to the wolves in some way? Typical behaviour from a Lion, exploit the trust of your "friends". He is only from a minor house after all... At least people expect deceit and betrayal from my House.. You Lions love to appear to be honourable and then you suggest something like this!"

Hemlock: "I trust Anton: he recovered me when I was lost, and we have travelled through dark places together.  But he has a point: all of my mother's recent schemes seem to be about me.  Whether she cares about me, or simply wishes her heir installed when my father dies, she seems to want to control rather than kill me.  Confronting her is a valid move, but I would want to understand more before any such decision."

Mal: "Also, excuse you lady chastity, appearing to be honourable and then being deceitful is the best part of being a lion.

At least for me it is... "

Anton De Havilland: "Throwing Hemlock to the Wolves is not going to achieve anything,  so no, that is not my suggestion.  Besides, I don't have the expertise in this sort of work. I don’t have the spy network, paid informants, authorities in my pocket. We should be asking our expert on what we should be doing here."

"I have a few ideas, nothing concrete yet. Certainly, my first thought is to meet with the man you identified as setting you up Chastity. I would like some certainly about Emereldas culpability here since we actually don’t have any evidence of that yet."

GM – (Chastity): "You want to meet with Mercucio or his Al Malik friend, or both?"

Anton De Havilland: “Well logically if we wanted information then hitting Mercucio would be the best option as he isn’t necessary expecting it at the moment. If we meet the Al-Malik contact then we might be tipping off Mercucio or it might be better for us if we can get access to information that means getting to Mercucio easier. What does everyone think here, we all have a valid opinion "

Hemlock: "I think I would like to meet this Mercucio. We need information, and he might have some insight."

Anton De Havilland: "He seems to be the person in the know, for sure and more likely to have an understanding of the wider aim"

"I still would like to understand more about your mother and what her aims actually are. Mercucio might know that."

GM: Chastity glides across the warehouse floor with the grace and poise of a predatory serpent. She reaches a bank of steel lockers, takes out a key and undoes the padlock that secures it. The door opens with a screech that reverberates around the mostly empty warehouse space.

"Come out you piece of Vorox shit, these nice people want to speak to you."

A dishevelled and nervous looking man with greasy hair, a pencil thin moustache and the chin stubble of a few days growth, stumbles cautiously out of the cupboard.

Anton De Havilland: De Havilland pulls up 2 chairs and beckons Mercucio to sit at one. He straightened out his jacket and trousers and sits himself upright at the other....

"I'm going to be honest with you Mr.Mercucio, I don’t have much experience extracting information from people. Back in the service we had people who specialise at this kind of work. I happen to think my own methods are rather clumsy and brutal by Decados standards and I understand that some may see a lack of skill and interpret that as outright cruelty. Now I want to assure you, that even though I may lack the clinical precision of a Decados torturers I more than make up for it in zeal.  Mr Max here is from the Muster guild. He is an expert in keeping patients alive.

It's his responsibility to make sure that any mistakes I make are patched up enough to keep you conscious.

Which is what we all want at the end if the day.

We are all friends here”

Anton De Havilland: "Now let me tell you what is going to happen here and why. Now the why is simple. A few years ago I had a friend who was picked up by this Ladies father. Now this friend had in his eyes, caused harm to someone he cared about. So they wanted some intel from this friend of mine and they went to work in him. He was a tough son of a gun from what I read of the notes. Took them a few days to crack him but he died possibly earlier than they anticipated. They overcooked things you might say

However, I think they got most of what they wanted from him before his heart gave out or despair took him.

Whichever went first.

I think they were experts. I have already apologised that I am not an expert. I lack the training if I am honest. What I did learn though is not to ask any questions for the first few days of ordeal

Let the victim just endure and despair at the fact that it isn’t ending. This makes it more likely that when you do want to ask them something later you get to that part cleaner

Now if you wanted to talk to us now well I can talk to these people and ask them what we do. After all Mr. Max has been hired for a specific job after all

There is his professional pride at stake here..."

GM: The greasy weasel that sits before Anton looks furtively at Lady Chastity, then meets the Hawkwood's gaze. He chuckles. He speaks with the nasal tones one might associate with a bookkeeper or upper-middle class social climber.

"First of all, we have not been properly introduced so I will forgive you the disparaging insult to myself, my House and my station. Duels have been fought for less. You will please address me as "Sir" Mercucio or an appropriate form of deference depending on your rank."

He pulls himself up straight in the chair, seemingly in an attempt to convey his bearing and station. He sinks almost immediately. It would appear that "slightly hunched" is his natural pose.

"Secondly my House has been associated with House Decados since the fall of Vladimir. As such do you really believe that I have endured and inflicted greater punishments and tortures than you or your pet ogre here could devise? You flatter yourself and further underestimate and insult me."

He shifts in the chair again. The cadre notice that his hands are bound behind his back and the ligatures seem to be irritating him.

"Thirdly, do you really not believe that my honoured Lady here," He nods to Chastity. "Has not already used only a mere modicum of the exquisite skill she possesses in this area to make me tell her absolutely every damn thing she wanted to know!" As he speaks so his temper rises with every syllable until that last word  it literally spat at De Havilland. Suddenly the Van Gelder is composed again. The venom concealed as his sinks back to the weaselly, hunched and decrepit little figure he first appeared to be. Hemlock is reminded of the dried husk of a dead spider.

"And so, finally, can we please just have a civil conversation where I will attempt to answer your questions and then, perhaps, we can all assist each other in resolving our present predicament?"

Anton De Havilland: Looks to Chastity. "He’s been in there for 2 days? Still pretty sparky and fairly confident still that his lord and master will save him. Mal, you got any tools in your unique skill set that apply here"?

GM – (Mercucio): "My Lord and master? My employer is m'lady's father! Why do you think I would be waiting for any other aid? She is right there, and I have been "rescued" in exactly the way I would anticipate help to come! The fact that I am still alive is both a blessing and a curse and speaks to me that I either still serve a useful purpose or that m'lady and his Lordship have something far more horrific in store."

He breathes a deep sigh.

"I would very much prefer it to be the former rather than the later and therefore I shall continue to seek to be as compliant and helpful as possible. Now, how abouts you give up the veiled threats and actually ask some questions?"

"And if anyone has any smokes of any sort, I'd be much obliged if I could bum one off you?"

Anton De Havilland: "Then why does she keep you in a locker and refer to you in such terms? Seems a strange thing to do to an employee, especially where that employee has apparently arranged for objects a dubious nature concerning Demon worship to be associated to their master’s daughter."

"Also odd that you haven't taken this brief opportunity to ask why you were seized"

Hemlock: Hemlock whispers to Chastity, "I understood that both he and you had been similarly framed, with objects from his Al Malik associate."

GM – (Mercucio): "I have not arranged for anything to be associated with m'lady!" Sir Mercucio's tone is initially exasperated but swiftly shifts to the slow and frequently pausing manner that of one trying to explain something to a child or an adult of limited awareness...

"I am as much a victim here, you fool, but how Lady Chastity chooses to deal with a subordinate who she has believed has failed her father is up to her not you. I will not have YOU judging HER disciplinary measures. I can understand her belief that I have made mistakes and failed her father and she has a right to deal with that failure as she sees fit, whoever you are you are obviously not a part of her or my House and so neither she nor I need answer to you."

Anton De Havilland: Turns to Chastity. "Now I am satisfied. You picked wisely M'Lady. With your permission I will ask the straight'forward questions we have?"

GM – (Chastity): "Whatever." Chastity moves away to busy herself with a table of gear and various items set off to one side. She remains within earshot but it appears that this exchange is either boring her or she has heard it all before

Anton De Havilland:  "What is the name of the Al-Malik associate that we are told planted the antimonist material?"

"What was the nature of your business with them and for how long?"

GM – (Mercucio): "Now we're getting somewhere, perhaps there is hope for a mutually beneficial relationship after all...The "associate" you refer to is Sir Ali Em Sabu Criticorumiyy al-Malik. He and I have a shared interest in the powers of the mind and the broadening of the human experience into a psychic plane of existence. We have corresponded at length over such matters and have played host to each other as guests."

He waives nonchalantly as he tells the tale. Anton can imagine that Mercucio sees himself as a raconteur and the life and soul of a party.

"We are both collectors of knowledge and artefacts which relate to our shared passion and we would often boast of our most recent acquisitions. After some years our strengthening relationship had obviously reached the point where he felt he could trust me enough to show me some of his more "private" collection.

Now, I would clarify this by saying that even my collection and the collection that Ali had shared with me up to that point would be considered abhorrent and heretical by certain members of the church, those who consider all psychic abilities to be the work of Darkness, for example. However even I balked at some of the esoterica Ali showed me. His collection encompassed much that was macabre or at least borderline antimonistic, if not fully of qlippothic origin. In hindsight I should have summoned the retribution of the church upon him at that point but, to my regret, I did not. My reasons were base ones; I feared that if discovered I would be implicated and tarred with the same brush, I thought that the knowledge gave me leverage over him should I need it in future and finally there was a part of me that was curious, albeit also revolted, to learn more of such items and how they might relate to "pure" psychic ability."

"When such items were found on my property, and that of Lady Chastity, I recognised them from Sir Ali's collection. How they were placed there I do not know, whether it was by direct action of Ali, an agent on his behalf or a third party who has taken objects from him, I do not know. To be frank I was more concerned to avoid the flame guns of the Avestite inquisitors that arrived at my door than to stop to ponder the detail of how the items had been inserted into my domicile."

"Do none of you have a smoke of any sort then?"

Hemlock: "I'm afraid I never acquired the habit, sir.

"Was it the framing that caused you to break off contact with Constance san Tandere, or did something happen beforehand?

"Further, what more can you tell us about Sir Ali Em Sabu Criticorumiyy al-Malik?  Is he part of a broader coven?  Is he related to anyone significant?  Is he also hunted?  What are his capabilities?  When he presented the worst esoterica to you, did he show any fondness or affinity, or was it more fascination with the macabre?  Did he make your acquaintance before or after you started passing funds through Constance?"

GM: Mercucio turns his head to meet Hemlock with a sideways glance.

"I was warned off dealing with the San Tandere woman before the artefacts were planted in my possession. As for being a member of a coven, some might consider the trading of ideas that we shared would connect Ali and I as a" coven".... However I believe that he did mention a "Club" of like minded individuals that he frequented in Hawkwood space, Ravenna I think it was.

To my knowledge he holds no high station, nor are his relations particularly notable. I believe he has an aunt on Ravenna, hence the connection."

"As far as I know the church does not hunt him and there is no obvious connection between the evidence implicating Lady Chastity and I and himself.

He was certainly fascinated by the items that he showed me and seemed to hold a desire to know more, whether his studies took him far down those dark paths I really could not say, nor would I truly wish to know. "

".. And I have known him for a good dozen or so years, far longer than Count Innocence's investment in Captain Corteaz' affairs."

Mal: Mal whispers to De Havilland

"we may have to deal with the club and the twins sooner than anticipated... "

Anton De Havilland: "How safe is it for us to determine the identity of this aunt?

"Are there records kept of such things that we could find access to?

"Did he ever mention a connection to the Justinian family at all?

GM – (Mercucio): "I don't recall a mention of House Justinian, but our conversation tended to dwell on more complex and occult matters than mundane politics and family trees."

Anton De Havilland: "How fortunate for you. Do you know of any means on Criticorum that we could identify this Aunt?"

"If not then I expect we will just need to determine how to find this man, Sir Ali."

GM – (Mercucio): "There will be peerage documents which a Reeve or local al-Malik household could access."

Anton De Havilland: To Mal, quietly "If our friend here is psychic could you identify his talent for us please?"

De Havilland asks, "Aside from an interest in psychic phenomena can I assume that you and Sir Ali both demonstrate psychic abilities in some capacity?"

Mal: Mal whispers back "Step ahead of you, his aptitude is in psyche, the same as Hasimir (from what I recall), and sympathy. Due to the nature of both I've been keeping a close eye on him just in case.

Try not to think about something you wouldn't want him to know... "

Anton De Havilland: "Good work, this is your area so let me know if anything untoward is going on"

Hemlock: "Sir Mercucio, how were you persuaded to break contact with Constance?"

GM – (Mercucio): "Force. I am, as you might assuage, not inclined, or designed, for martial pursuits. Pugilism and weaponry hold no allure. When a group of personages with violent intent come knocking on one's door with a simple offer vis-a-vis they will not spread your entrails over the wall if you stop sending funds to a Reeve, I am therefore inclined to take their very kind offer."

"Over the following weeks I was considering my future options, knowing that Count Innocence would eventually discover my disobedience in some way when the Avestites came looking for me too."

"In hindsight I suppose it is perfectly plausible that the ruffians who assailed me in my own home could have been the same party as placed the incriminating evidence. They certainly had the access."

Anton De Havilland: "Are you psychic and if so what power do you possess?"

GM – (Mercucio): "I thought that was clear from my relationship with Ali... I am gifted with certain psychic abilities, yes. In the common vernacular of the magic lantern shows or salacious articles in the Town Cryer I would be called a telepath. By the more accurate classification of the Flavian Institute I would be said to have a level of mastery in the paths of Psyche and Sympathy. "

Mal: murmuring under his breath "I told you so..."

Anton De Havilland: "Psyche I know a little of. Tell me about Sympathy"

Mal: "I'd be interested to know your answer as well, it's a path I'm less knowledgeable on"

GM: Mercurio squints at Mal for a moment as if trying to size up whether he is a peer or a threat, then sighs and turns once more to De Havilland.

"Sympathy is a supplementary path... It is a gift of limited use on its own, but it can be of great use when combined with other powers.

Fundamentally, and in a way that your minds may have a chance to grasp it, Sympathy allows a psychic to build more permanent connections or links. These in turn make other gifts easier to use, and over longer ranges. "

Anton De Havilland: De Havilland smiles at Mercucio. "My idiot brain tells me you have a connection with this Ali. I am wondering whether it works the same for him.  How much have you already shared with Ali using your precious permanent connection"

"Are you possibly sharing something with him this very moment?"

GM – (Mercucio): "Yes, I have a Bond to Ali but it is a one way street. I Bonded him but he doesn't have the capability to Bond me, to my knowledge he has not walked that Path of study. You cannot establish a Bond with a subject who is unwilling so I would know if he had even attempted to create such a link with me. I have never had much interest in covens and groups so I have not pushed my mastery of Sympathy beyond the ability to Bond an individual or a location.

While a Bond makes the usage of my gifts easier I am not so talented that you would not see the effort on my visage. But I appreciate the flattery."

"Look, if none of you straight arrows have a smoke on you, have you at least got some liquor? I'm frightfully parched."

Anton De Havilland: "We have a ship full of Selchakah if you fancied a smoke but then that particular sting is why we are now sat here trying to work out what we are going to do about it. I do have a few Ravenna ci-gars if you want one."

GM – (Mercucio): "Ah...a roll of Ravenna leaf would be much appreciated."

Anton De Havilland: "To Sir Ali, what was his particular psychic talent? Might be good to know what that is. With regards to Antinonmist powers we have some experience in confronting those but not much. At least knowing his psychic threat is a start"

Hemlock: "Agreed.  I think Sir Ali is someone we will need to confront."

Hemlock looks dubiously at the ci-gar, too used to being aboard ship where smoke sets off the air scrubber alarms.

GM – (Mercucio):"Heheheh..." He takes a long slow drag of tobacco while clenching the slim cigarillo in his teeth while his hands remain bound.

"Ahhhhh...." Pungent smoke drifts out from between his clenched teeth.

"If you were to believe Ali all psychic powers are his to command...I'm pretty sure that in reality he has command of the Sixth Sense. Although one of the reasons I was first interested in correspondence with him was that he has some command of the rare and complex gift known as "Omen". He appears to be able to see glimpses of the past and future."

Anton De Havilland: De Havilland takes one of his cigarillos and lights it. He gets up and paces about for a bit. "He'll be expecting someone to look for him. Probably using that power of his to gain insight. Not sure how we contend with that."

"Any other situation and we could have laid a trail for others to follow to his door. On this occasion we need him ourselves and so can’t do that." Turns to Mercucio "Is there any way the bond you have to him could be utilised in some way, a name or a place or an image? We need accurate current Intel on his location but maybe you might have a means to gain some insight here. If not, then we are forced to look to more traditional methods. But, from what I see all roads lead to us finding this man and questioning him. I do feel we are walking into completely unknown territory here"

"I feel outgunned as usual but the Antinonomy aspect is concerning "

Turns to Chastity,  "Do you have any idea whether the Inquisition are looking for you on Criticorum yet? Are they already here or do we think they are still searching?"

" Be just our luck to find Sir Ali and have an Avestite Apostle turn up at the same time"

Mal: "Depending on how skilled he is, I might be able to level the playing field, but we would need to be able to find him first and get closer to him..."

GM: Sir Mercucio attempts to raise a bound hand but fails

"Urm, whilst as yet they may not be seeking M'lady the Inquisition are certainly active in their hunt for me, hence my current unshaven state and lack of in-season attire.  Oh, and If he's close enough I could read Ali's surface thoughts but nothing deeper and can send mental messages to him. I cannot sense his presence though."

Anton De Havilland: "Aside for looking for Sir Ali is there any specific items we need to consider to bring with us? Personally I have no idea how we could deal with an Antinmonist and I expect we would need a priest perhaps to have any Hope's there. If anyone has any ideas now is the time to raise them"

Hemlock: "To my mind, things Chastity's agents can recover from the ship will give us advantages in stealth.   I can use the camouflage cloak, and lend the blur suit to you or Mal.  Actually, you might be a bit broad across the shoulders, Anton.

"Sir Ali must know his items have been used.  So either he's party to the scheme, or he is likely concerned that the trail could lead the inquisition to him.  In either case, we can assume he's prepared for unwelcome guests, possibly by fleeing himself.

"Sir Mercucio, do you have any insight as to where he might be?"

GM: Mercucio is sat back in the chair, taking a long, ponderous, inhale on his smoke. He leans forward to let the collected ash fall to the floor between his legs. It is done in such a practiced way that it occurs to Hemlock that this may not have been the first time the Van Gelder has had to smoke without the use of his hands.

"He has a place in the capital, Archeon but, like I said, he's known to visit family and his club on Ravenna. Likewise he often travels the Jumpweb to secure artefacts or object d'arte for his collection.

He doesn't have a fief to speak of, his income must come from business investments and other revenues."

Anton De Havilland: "I still don’t get what is supposedly motivating our Emerald Lady here. Hemlock has been coming and going from Ravenna for years. Why suddenly now is his mother supposedly making plans to thwart his business ventures?  Even Hemlock is lost on this point.  I don’t understand what has changed to warrant this overreaction. Something has changed, or someone has changed. .."

GM: Chastity looks up from her equipment checks

"Hemlock is the afterthought." She pauses suddenly and looks across at Hemlock, there is a glimmer of regret or perhaps embarrassment and then it is gone.

"It would be more accurate to say that he is the cream on the cake, the surprise bonus. This is about revenge, pure and simple. She is striking out at those she blames for taking her son away or disrupting her plans. Remember that this began before it was known on Ravenna that you had returned from the lost worlds. The last we all knew you had disappeared into Barbarian territory. I think that it only took as long as it did for her to put her plan into motion because my father kept his connections and business dealings secret. If she had had a way to reliably strike back sooner I have little doubt that she would have."

"This way she gets at my father's business investments, Corteaz and me and through us, hurts my father."

Hemlock: "How does our engagement fit into this?  It seems odd that my mother would agree to her son being engaged to someone she was acting against.  I suppose she might have thought me lost for good, or believed her schemes would negate the engagement."

GM – (Chastity): "If you'll recall the original marriage petition from my father was to yours. As I understand it the majority of House Justinian are traditionalist fuddy-duddies....must be why they get on so well with the Big Boring Blue Lions..." She winks at Anton

"And we all know by now that your daddy-dearest is in that old school camp. Any betrothal would be agreed by him, as head of his household, not his darling and demure wife. Pancreator only knows what happened behind closed doors once she found out - or whether she was in agreement as it served her wider purposes...I'm not a mind reader like our friend here." She waves the vicious looking blade she had taken from the table in Mercucio's general direction.

"It does occur to me that there are a few players engaged in this drama and while some actions might suit another's purposes, they aren't all acting as a single faction with one goal. If there was one singular threat or machinator above all then I would place good money on your mother." She fixes Hemlock with a gaze that somehow seems both severe and sympathetic at the same time, as if trying to drive home the point while knowing that it may be a bitter pill to swallow.

Mal: "I would definitely take that bet. I think another party may have a larger roll than we have so far given them credit..."

"Several roads have led back to the noble's club on Ravenna. Even when looking back at past events, they have still been floating around. You say your Al Malik friend has a connection, they are responsible for recent events on the Ravenna. For all we know Hasimir was, for who knows how long, or still is being puppeteered by them.

I know we have nothing concrete to connect any of this to them, but there is still a link. I don't think we should ignore such a connection. After all, we have no way of knowing if one party may be controlling the other."

"Perhaps Sir Ali can help provide some information on what the connection is, if we can get close enough to ask."

Session forty-eight

The cadre arrive on Criticorum, landing at Ost spaceport. There they are met by representatives of the Merchants League who proceed to board and inspect the cargo. Mal is concerned that his outlaw status may be recognised so he hides aboard the ship. 

The cargo inspection reveals that the plants that they are carrying are Severan poppies, the source of the drug Selchakah. As the crew had broken the seal of one of the containers the Customs Officer rules that they cannot say that they did not know what was within and has his guards place them under arrest. Max suggests fighting their way out but De Havilland dissuades him.

Anton, Hemlock, Max and Ylanath are taken under arrest to a facility some distance from the spaceport while Mal remains hidden aboard the Innocent Pursuit.

After being separated into male and female cells the cadre are left to stew about their "crimes". They discuss how they may have been set up, available options and what they can do next, meanwhile, after the guilders have left the ship Mal sneaks off the vessel and makes to leave the spaceport via the perimeter fence. 

That evening the prison receives an unexpected visitor. A lithe and stealthy figure dressed all in black breaks in to the cells and releases De Havilland, Max and Hemlock. They are about to leave but the cadre insists that Ylanath is also rescued.

The mysterious stranger takes them to the warehouse district near the spaceport and to a hideout within one of the warehouse units. They then reveal their identity: the Lady Chastity Decados.

Sharing their respective information they learn that Lady Chastity has come to Criticorum to locate the same Van Gelder knight that the cadre has, Sir Mercucio Van Gelder. He, like Chastity has been accused of antimony and has gone into hiding. Chastity informs the group that he is an agent of her father and that it was Count Innocence, through the intermediaries of Mercucio and Ms San Tander, who had been bankrolling Corteaz' expedition. He was doing it by way of thanks to Hemlock. Chastity also advises Hemlock that, in his absence, his father Baron Tochiro Matsumoto Justinian, accepted Count Innocence's offer of his daughter as a suitor for Hemlock. They are currently betrothed to be wed. 

The cadre manage to raise Mal (who is evading guild security patrols) via squwarker and arrange meet up with him.

From Chastity's information it appears that she and Mercucio have been set up using materials from the collection of an Al Malik knight, Sir Ali Em Sabu Al Malik. This plays into suspicions she, and Anton, have that the party behind all this is Hemlock's mother, Baroness Esmeralda Al Malik Justinian. It is Chastity's belief that Hemlock's mother blames Count Innocence in some way for her "losing" her son due to the events of the Dame Arcadia controversy and is manipulating things to get revenge. 

The group take stock and plan what to do next...

Session forty-seven

The cadre are reunited in Byzantium Secundus, De Havilland having completed his business with the Phoenix Order and the rest of the group having returned from the planetary agora with Constance San Tandair in tow. They trade information, Anton explaining some of what transpired with his Order and Hemlock telling him and Mal about what he had learned regarding Lady Chastity (see recent Interlude posts for details).  They then make preparations to leave for Cumulus Station as soon as possible. 

En route to the spaceport the cadre think that they are being watced or followed and so make an effort to lose any pursuers at the monorail station. Confident that they have lost any tails they head to the spaceport and prepare the Innocent Pursuit for takeoff.

Heading into space Hemlock lays in a course to Cumulus at full burn and the cadre and their passengers (Constance and Ylanath) slip into a cramped but tolerable shipboard routine.

Mal takes the time to speak with De Havilland and explain how he plans to try to be a better person and as evidence of which he returns a numer of small items he had stolen from Anton, and his estate, over the years. He is about to hand over a fork he stole in their recent stay at the manor on Ravenna when he gets a sudden psychic flash and hears Hasimir's voice. Mal asks De Havilland if he can hold onto the item for a while longer and then spends much of the rest of the journey in solitude meditating on it.

About half way into the trip the ship's long range sensors detect another ship of similar size on an intercept course. Knowing that such a thing is highly unlikely to be coincidence Hemlock recommends that they try to evade it. Working together with a combination of De Havilland's tactical knowledge, Hemlock's piloting and Max's engineering they manage to keep the other vessel at the edge of sensor range and dock safely at the station.

Once ensconced aboard Cumulus Constance honours their agreement and provides details of her backer. The investor is Sir Mercucio Van Gelder, a minor House knight who is based in the city of Ost on Criticorum. De Havilland makes some enquiries via his gossip network and learns that Sir Mercucio is currently on being sought by the Inquisition after being accused of antimony. In fact he is alledged to be a member of the same coven as Lady Chastity. Hearing this De Havilland and Hemlock are set to wondering if there is a connection to Count Innocence. They then fill Max in on their history with the Decados and what this could all mean.

The next conundrum that the cadre face is how to arrange a jump to Criticorum. They explore a few options and Mal makes some enquiries aboard the station, eventually finding "Smiling Larry", a Charioteer (who later, and after some persuasion, gives his name as Larance Chuchar). He says that he has been let down by another ship and desperately needs his time sensitive cargo transported to Criticorum. He is willing to give Sir Hemlock, who is in good standing with the Guild, a jump key as payment for taking his cargo. The goods are perishable plants and if they aren't delivered to Criticorum with all haste Chucar will be in breach of his contract, lose a substantial amount of money and the goods will be spoilt which will mean he cannot resell them. To him a jumpkey is a small price to pay.

After agreeing the cadre have the goods (about half a dozen sealed crates) loaded into the Innocent Pursuit's small hold and set off for the jumpgate. Mal cannot resist breaching a seal and taking a look at the contents. He doesn't know what they are but they are certainly plants!

Interlude - Alumni

It was passing through a park in the Imperial City that Hemlock heard his name called.  She was sheltering from the incessant rain under a cedar tree, now stood just apart from a cluster of other sharply-dressed nobles.  Only she hadn’t called his full name, but “Lock”.

Yueying Li Halan.  Ebon-skinned, froths of lace at her cuffs, an elegant little duelling scar on one cheek.  “It is you!” she beckoned him out of the squall.

“Hello, Yueying,” under cover, Hemlock swept back his hood.

She gasped, “It’s true,” covering her grin with her fingers.

“What is?”

“But where did you get all these scars from?” she touched one carving a line down his cheek, “Have you been dueling Hazat-style?”

“Something like that.”  Keats might flinch.  Hemlock lifted his chin.

“And your eyes!  What on Urth possessed you?”

“Excuse me?” this conversation was quickly spiraling to unwelcome places.

“Ice blue suited you!  But grey?  They look like maxicrete!” Yueying grimaced, “I hope their functions make up for their colour.”

“My means were limited at the time.”  There was something else she’d said.  What was it?  Oh, yes, “What is true?”

“The Decados affair!”

“I was not aware I was of sufficient significance for my exploits to have reached Byzantium Secundus.”

“I like to keep track of my fellow Alumni.  And I’ve found one of our lost sheep!” she beamed (perfectly straight, bright teeth), “You’ve been a mysterious absence in the newsletter.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t read it, and I feel unchivalrous that my activities are monopolizing our reunion,” he should ask something, but her business with the abbey (he recalled) seemed too scandalous, and so long had passed since the academy that –

“Oh no!  You’re not getting off that easily!  Despite your house’s history, you were her first – what was it about her? – then you vanish for years and return with tattoos and piercings, and all in black.  Loose the purple cloak and you could be Decados!”

“No.  It all means something else,” flickers of someone else’s memories, a glimpse that maybe Hemlock isn’t real.  His voice cracked, rising, “Is this about the Lady Chastity?”

Yueying laughed, “Who else?  Duke Innocence emerges into society for the first time in years – one of his nephews is in the newsletter: you must remember Petenka – and his daughter proceeds to work her way through the whole Ravenna court, but she starts with you, and she was with you for far longer than any of her flings.  At the academy, I always wondered if you were saving yourself.  What was it about her?”

Hemlock frowned.  An affair with a Decados: that would make others remember his name.  But he’d always been a poor liar, “We were just good friends.”

“Of course you were.”

“Lady Chastity was an impeccable guest, and my failings as a host were not worthy of her.  While our last meeting was difficult, I continue to hold her in the highest regard, and look forward to meeting her again.  Please put that in the newsletter.”

“Sir Hemlock Justinian holds Lady Chastity Decados in the highest regard,” eyebrows raised, smiling at the prospect, “despite accusations of antimony?”

“Excuse me?”

“You hadn’t heard?” Yueying laughed.

“Whatever it is, I refuse to believe it.”

“Lock, where have you been?  She’s hunted by the inquisition, part of a coven that raised husks at one of your deep core cities a few years ago.”

“Deep core one-oh-three.  We encountered those husks.  Their antimonist died at my hand – an interesting duel since she was shielded and I was not – then we bombarded their ritual site.”  Hemlock scowled, “And I have experienced just how little regard some church officials have for facts.”

“So quick to defend her.  You’re sure those aren’t Decados tattoos?”

“A souvenir of the Lost Worlds.  I’m afraid I have to go,” he pulled up his hood, though the squall had passed.

“Wait!  Lost worlds?”

“Perhaps we could meet at a coffee house?”

“The Gilded Rat!” she called, as Hemlock strode away, “Ask for me there!”

Interlude - And how can we help sir today?

De Havilland examined the sorry-looking creature in front of him carefully.  It appeared somewhat familiar but there was still a resounding sense of the “unrecognisable” about it.  He shifted in his chair uneasily as a sudden sharp sense of dread came over him.  

“Well...” he pondered, wriggling around in his seat like a child being fitted for a wedding outfit, “what would you recommend?”

The barber appeared to spasm momentarily and then very quickly recovered the moment up by coughing rather elaborately.

“Perhaps your lordship could explain perhaps the look he was going for at the time that this...natural disaster occurred?” he questioned pulling strands of De Havilland's hair outwards in all directions.

De Havilland stared at his reflection in the mirror in front of him.  It had been a very long time since he had need or want to consider his outward appearance.  He wasn't really sure he was qualified to make any sort of appropriate decision on the topic anymore.

“Perhaps just a trim?” he queried expectantly, which was sadly immediately followed by another coughing fit from the barber.

“Maybe your lordship could explain a little bit about his role, or perhaps whether he will be meeting people of purpose at all.  I might then have more of an idea as to what might be required.”

De Havilland mulled over the words carefully.  Eighty percent of him was wondering how appropriate it might be for him to be seen smashing a barber’s head through a plate glass window; the remaining 20% knew that he probably deserved to be treated like a barbarian.  He was after all in the Known Worlds now and was expected to look just like everyone else, no matter how disappointing a thought that might be.  The Marquis peered at himself again in the mirror.

“I’ll tell you what” he stated, “you fix me a large drink from your collection of spirits from over there and I’ll figure out what we are doing.  I have the distinct impression that this is going to be a lot harder work than either of us anticipate.”

The barber picked up a pair of scissors and looked De Havilland in the eye.

“I very much doubt that…” he quipped.

About an hour and a half later a statelier if still imposing figure of The Marquis De Havilland stepped out of “Bryon’s Gentlemen Grooming Establishment”.  The hair was now a socially acceptable shoulder length although in some places De Havilland had retained some of the Vuldrok warrior braiding and beading of his original look.  He had thought it might add a touch of dramatic flair for the fashion conscious of the city who might (strangely as it might appear) want to imitate him.  His beard had been a real trial.  The wild bushiness of it had been cropped back, but he had chosen still to retain a neat and refined gentlemen’s beard.  His moustache he kept longer than the beard as he had really missed the feeling of having one over the past years. His skin, beard and hair had all been treated with an astonishing assortment of various oils and potions and despite their own objections the grooming established had been tasked to spend some time attending to his hands and nails.  Overall it had probably been one of the most uncomfortable periods De Havilland had ever spent in civilised space.  He had of course refused eyebrow trims and a whole host of other fads, (some of which sounded more like Decados interrogation techniques) but he was satisfied that he had probably managed to capture the populist image of the dashing explorer Phoenix Knight.  He was now wearing some of the new clothes that he had picked up earlier that day and felt ready now to make a first trip to the offices of the Phoenix Order.  

Perhaps just one more drink would be advisable first though.

“You are Anton, Marquis De Havilland Hawkwood and your liege lord by estate is one Count Otto Kierkegaard Hawkwood of Ravenna.  Is this correct?”

“Yes, your Lordship”

“You are a member of The Company of the Phoenix and have sworn to uphold the values and principles that our order espouses in active service to his Imperial Majesty, our Emperor Alexius.”

“Yes, your Lordship”

 “You have forsworn all political ties and affiliations to your noble house for the period of your service and have been given the rights and freedoms to serve His Majesty without impediment by grace of your liege lord through his observance to the authority of the throne?”

“Yes, your Lordship”

 “You have come here to this office today of your own free will in honourable service to His Majesty, and the words you speak here will be your own, and are not the views, testimony or instructions of another party?”

“Yes, your Lordship”

 “For the benefit of the clerk the hearing panel today consists of myself - Baron Audley Mountbatten, Her Ladyship Ciera Li Halan and Her Ladyship Latha Saritha Akilla Al Malik who are all serving knights with the Company of the Phoenix.”

“Marquis De Havilland, can you confirm that you know and have been made aware of the reasons as to why you have been summonsed here today?”

““Yes, your Lordship”

 “The panel are now providing The Marquis with a copy of his summons letter, which states the following:

From the desk of Baron Eviathan Hawkwood, leader of the knights of the Order of the Phoenix,

To the Marquis Anton Hawkwood De Havilland, Phoenix knight.

Sir,

You are summonsed to appear before your peers in the noble Order of the Phoenix, to which you swore your oath, to give account of the conduct of your sworn Cohort, the Ur-Obun known as Tonbei vo Khaan. 

You are expected, at your earliest convenience, in the halls of the Order in the Imperial Palace, Galatea on Byzantium Secundus, when a meeting of a council of your peers will be convened.

By the light of the divine Pancreator.

Have you seen and read this letter before?”

“Yes, your Lordship”

 “Have you read the notices concerning this process?”

“Yes, your Lordship”

 “Do you have any other questions concerning either the summons or this process?”

“No, your Lordship”

 “Before we start I will bring forward the written testimony of Sir Vim Militas-Djinn Al Malik, knight of the Company of the Phoenix who wrote to this office at the same time that your official notice concerning the events of this investigation were first brought to light.  For the sake of the clerk, this letter provides positive character references concerning the Marquis De Havilland and his actions concerning threat of political unrest on Ravenna and beyond between the Justinian and Hawkwood Houses.  We also received more recent notice regarding the Marquis’ foray into barbarian space in order to support the expansion of the Phoenix Empire, which is in fulfilment of his sworn duties; and if this is correct might be used in testimony on his behalf.”

The Baron puts his papers down and looks up at De Havilland.

“Marquis, can you share with the panel where and how you first met the Ur-Oban, Tonbei vo Khaan please?”

“I met Tonbei during the Emperor Wars.  I can’t recall our very first meeting but certainly it was whilst my unit were on active duty in Velisamil …

“The Oban homeworld?”

“Yes, my lord.  My unit were stationed there for a period during the war as a standing force and then, as the war progressed, we were moved on as needed.  But certainly, it was whilst on Velisamil that I first came in to contact with Tonbei.”

“And how did you take him at that time?”

“As an individual or as a soldier?”

“Both”

“I found him to be a very quiet and dutiful character.  I had no real experience of others of his race before but my time on Velisamil, but from what I could determine later he was fairly typical of his kin.  Tonbei was picked out as an exceptional soldier and had made himself a strong candidate for the unit.  I don’t know how we ended up working together but I know that at that time I liked working with him.  It became apparent that together we offered the unit more tactical options than the usual standing troops. Certainly, I was more of your typical squad leader at that time and he was something of a specialist but together we were very successful at a number of the more covert operations, particularly in situations of close proximity to imperial citizens.”

“Can you explain that further please?”

“Certainly. Tonbei was an exceptional covert operator.  He was able to get into situations without being seen and could deal with light security teams quite comfortably.  I was more tactical in my training and could provide him with a clear plan of attack.  In addition, I could provide a more traditional armed support on operations when a diversion or extraction was needed.”

“I see.  We thank you for your service during the Emperor Wars Marquis, as we thank all those who served and died to bring about natural order.  We note to the clerk that we are now reviewing the war record of Tonbei vo Khaan which I believe…[turns to the others] that we have all read?”

The others sat either side of Baron Audley both nod and respond positively.

“How would you regard his service during those years Marquis?”

“I’d have to say it was very good.  It was a lot to do with our success during the wars that lead to us taking up the option of joining as Imperial servants within the Phoenix Order.”

“Yes, you both applied together, and you were his sponsor at the time?”

“Well…”

“Are you aware of the responsibilities and liabilities of the sponsorship of Imperial Cohorts Marquis?”

There was silence.

“I take it that you were made aware of those responsibilities at the time Tonbei vo Khaan was made an Imperial Cohort?”  The question was made a little louder this time.

“…Yes…”

Ciera Li Halan stares at De Havilland studying him carefully.  5 years ago he would have cowered under that gaze.  Today he felt surprisingly more able to hold it for reasons he didn’t fully understand.

“Let us move on for a moment.  So, to summarise you were both offered service, you as an Imperial Phoenix Knight and Tonbei as your assigned Cohort.”

“Yes, your Lordship”

 “And you provided that service in a number of campaigns [flicks through some pages] before arriving on Ravenna, which is where the focus of our session will rest.”

“Yes, your Lordship”

Some time was then spent analysing the career and actions of De Havilland and Tonbei during their various campaigns.  It seemed to De Havilland that the panel went out of their way to belittle and demean any and all of their works and labours over those years.  Learning your craft was a difficult challenge for a Phoenix Knight and very costly if mistakes were made as part of that process, but that certainly didn’t stop the panel from making it clear that they did not hold the pair’s accomplishments with any degree of respect.  Quite the contrary in fact.  To speak ill of the dead is one thing but De Havilland kept getting the feeling that his own name was being muddied in with Tonbei’s all too frequently.  To him it didn’t feel like justice was being served.  Until finally, after many hours of sneering commentary…

“…I take it the panel have read the full account leading to the event of Tonbei vo Khaan’s death?

The Baron turns to the knights either side of him; Ciera keeps her eyes firmly on De Havilland but both she and Latha nod their confirmation.

“Marquis, could you summarise your own statement on the matter please?”

The Marquis composed his thoughts, summoning up a series of words and names he hadn’t need to recall for many a year.

“Tonbei was killed by Sir Hasimir Fenrig Torenson and his aide, Virssu Lainis.  He had attempted to attack Baron Christopher Hawkwood in the early hours of the morning, at a point when the Baron was retired to bed.  Tonbei was killed as an unidentifiable assassin, and then immediately after his death he was identified by Sir Hasimir.  As you would expect, I was approached the very next morning…”

“I expect the Baron supposed you were behind the attack?”

“Yes Your Lordship”

 “And were you?”

The question seemed to puncture the very space between De Havilland and his peers.

“That would be absurd.  I had absolutely nothing to gain from the death of the Baron”

“And yet according to our findings you personally believed the Barons presence in Deepcore 104 to be a significant political problem?”

“I thought his presence was deliberately provocative if that is what you mean?  It seemed to me to be either a direct attempt to stir bitter reprisals by the Justinian’s or at the very least a deeply flawed decision.”

“So you feel you were more capable of making decisions regarding this matter?”

“I would not have sent a power hungry Hawkwood to nurse vulnerable Justinian adolescents in a sector already marred by considerable controversy.”

“You feel it your duty to make decisions concerning the management of domestic matters?”

“When those decisions threaten the very lives of the common people there, then I do have an obligation…”

“Did you tell the Planetary Duke that you did not feel him capable of managing his own affairs?”

De Havilland stopped.  This was indeed surprising territory.  Discussion of the Planetary Duke could have any number of unforeseen consequences.  He had not expected an old warhorse like Audley to need to wander into this sort of territory at all.  There was more going on here than he could fathom.  De Havilland’s survival instincts suddenly kicked into life.

“No, of course not.  On the contrary. The Duke is most definitely capable of managing his own affairs.  I expect everything worked out exactly as he would have wished.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I have every confidence the Duke is managing his political affairs…correctly.  But then of course that would not be something I would ever have cause to be interested in myself”

“Do you resent being asked these questions Marquis?” interjected Ciera without warning.  She leaned forward in her seat like an old school-master and seemingly peering into the very inner workings of his mind.

“No, of course not…”

“But you do.  A great deal.  Why?”

De Havilland looked at her without expression.  He wondered how much she could read of his thoughts and feelings on the matter.  He had heard that she was an expert at interrogation.  

He certainly, was not.  

“I would prefer to keep to the subject of Tonbei if it is all the same to the panel.”

“Are you offended about being asked your views here Marquis?  Surely you would be pleased that we are showing an interest.  We are just trying to put you at your ease?”

“No, I am not pleased.  I would prefer to keep discussions to the subject matter in question.”

“What are you afraid of De Havilland?” she followed up again.

“I would prefer to keep to the subject matter in question” he repeated indignantly.

The room was quiet for a long time whilst the 3 members of the panel eyed De Havilland carefully. When the silence was broken it was Baron Audley who spoke first.

“Do you still claim that Tonbei was [refers to his reams of notes and reads directly from one page]…a member of an order you referred to as ‘The Slayers Guild’ and in the service of Count Innocence Decados?”

“Yes Your Lordship”

 “Even though that group is well known to be a figment of myth; a superstition of the common people?”

De Havilland grew impatient.

“Is it…?” he responded with a slight tone of sarcasm.

“There is no credible proof that any group calling themselves ‘The Slayers Guild’ ever existed at all.”

“I suppose the Ukar knives with the non-existent sigil were as much of a sign as you are ever likely to expect.”

“A decorative drawing left at the scene of a crime is not exactly a completely unknown phenomenon.”

“No, indeed, that much is true.  But the existence or not of this group is not significant to the outcome either.  Tonbei was recruited to commit murder, and commit murder, he did.”

“But you can understand the challenge here Marquis.  You suggest that the Count enlisted Tonbei through contact with this organisation.  If this organisation does not exist then perhaps neither too does the Counts involvement here?”

“One does not necessarily preclude the other.  We had testimony of the fact in front of witnesses.”

“Yes, so I note.  Such credible witnesses as Sir Hassimir Fenrig Torenson who by all accounts is indeed a master of table etiquette and is now more popularly known within the empire as a self-confessed psychic, and Sir Hemlock Justinian, whose own family currently lie in a considerable state of disgrace concerning the trade of banned Second Age technologies.  I won’t even bother to mention the other members of this crew who supposedly heard this same confession. Hardly a credible batch of witnesses, is it Marquis?”

“Yes, it is a shame some of the more acceptable members of society were not present but then I expect there was some really important work for them to be doing here that kept them away from… any personal liabilities.”

“You consider the work of senior nobles to be less important than the frontline work of real servants, such as yourself?”

“What is this really about?” responds an exasperated De Havilland.

“Sorry Marquis?”

“We’ve been sat here for a good while now and it’s pretty clear to me that you have poured scorn over the principles of my official statement and in general you seem to have been more interested in my general socio-political views than the facts of this case.  Given the years that has passed since this event took place you would have had plenty of time to accrue facts from any other sources of interest.  I don’t think you are really trying to assess the facts from my point of view here at all.  Actually, from where I am sitting, you just appear to be trying your best to provoke me.  You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear…”

De Havilland trailed off.  The room was silent whilst his mind whirred into motion.

The Baron was making notes and looked up expectantly having noticed the pause.

“I’m sorry Marquis, you were saying?” he queried.

De Havilland looked at the Baron making his notes.  ‘What on earth was he making notes on?’ he wondered.  ‘We weren’t actively discussing the case at that moment.  It was as if the Baron was more interested in his general response than the details within it.  But why would he want to be doing that?’  Something just did not add up.

“Marquis, you were saying?” repeated the Baron.

“You aren’t interested in this case at all are you?”  said a calm voice of realization.  De Havilland laughed briefly.

“You aren’t here to question me on this case are you?  You are assessing me.  Why?!”

“I really have no idea what you are talking about” replied the Baron.  He placed his quill down and pushed himself back into his chair.

“The purpose of this panel is to ascertain the facts concerning the betrayal of Tonbei vo Khaan and whether he ‘under your direct instruction’ committed attempted murder or not.  Need I remind you Marquis that if you are found guilty of orchestrating attempted murder the consequences would be most profound.”

“Liar...” the words fell from De Havilland’s lips, but he didn’t know where they had come from or who had said them.  The voice was certainly his though.

“I beg your pardon!” spat the Baron, clearly irritated by the response.

De Havilland leaned forwards to the edge of his desk, “That is a lie” he follows in a softened voice.

The Baron fixed a wily gaze on De Havilland.

“As a sponsor for Tonbei you have an official obligation in any capacity for his actions…”

“No...“ De Havilland cuts him off.

The Baron looks more even irritated and started to look a little red in the face.

“Do not question the authority of this court” he rages.

“I don’t, in fact I am relying upon it” responds De Havilland curtly.

“You’re babbling man, explain yourself!”

“I am not Tonbei’s sponsor” he answered simply.

“Impossible!” retorted the Baron, “Every Cohort has an official sponsor and it is always their allotted Phoenix Knight.”  The Baron starts to flick through pages of documents and eventually finds the page he was looking for.

“Yes, here!” he finds and stabs at a section of writing on a document before him and starts reading from it.

“I Anton Hawkwood, Marquis De Havilland hereby swear that I hold the character of Tonbei vo Khaan to be of sufficient standing to allow him to serve in the assigned position of Imperial Cohort…. And so on and so on and so forth, signed Anton Hawkwood.”

“Yes” replies De Havilland calmly.

“It’s here in black and white!” exhorts the Baron.

“That…is a character reference” replied De Havilland, “I was not actually permitted to sponsor Tonbei.”

The room falls quiet.

The Baron looks at the documents again.

“I made the application, but I was turned down on the basis that Tonbei was not of suitable candidate material.  When I protested it was suggested to me privately that perhaps an Ur-Oban was not a suitable field agent nor desirable face for the Phoenix Empire.  However, contradictory to that view there was also at that time a push to sell the concept of Phoenix Knights to the general populace. The Town Crier ran a sensational story about how an Ur-Oban was making his Imperial Cohort application; the first non-human to do so.  The story sold very well with a readership who lapped up the notion that under the emperor the common man now had more opportunities in life. The next I had heard, Tonbei’s application had been re-submitted and rather miraculously had been accepted…”

The Baron picked up his documentation and quickly began reading through it again.

“Your original request was indeed refused…A subsequent request was then sent through to this office from…[reads to himself] and then there is a note here to this office… with a final application signed and sponsored by……………………”

“…one Baron Eviathan Hawkwood in his capacity as a leading representative at the office of The Company of the Phoenix.  An official stamp of approval from the office itself was a ringing endorsement, as good as anyone could have hoped for.”

The Baron looks down at the words in front of him and then back at De Havilland.

“I see...”

There was no sense of triumphalism about this moment at all.  The room was surprisingly still. Oddly so. The tension that had been building in the room suddenly dissipated.  De Havilland had expected the Baron to be annoyed given how much emphasis he had wanted to make of Tonbei’s sponsor but now, it just didn’t seem to matter to him at all.  Things were very strange indeed.

“This session will now briefly adjourn.  The court will be emptied and I will remain present with The Marquis” announced The Baron.

The others all left silently; Ciera gave De Havilland a curt nod.

Once they had left The Baron grabbed a decanter of water and some glasses and left his table to sit opposite De Havilland.  He placed both glasses down, took a flask from inside his jacket pocket, tipped out a small measure of a thick green substance into both glasses and then topped them up with plenty of water.  He pulled a small clear stick from another pocket, stirred both glasses with it and then picked up one glass and lifted it slightly next to the one opposite De Havilland.  The Marquis reached out tentatively, lifted his glass and gently tapped the Baron’s glass with his own.  Both men took a good sip of the strange concoction.  The Baron let out a deep breath and allowed himself to rest back into his chair.  He tipped his head back across the top of the chair, as if granting permission for any weariness he felt to leave him.

De Havilland just kept watching him.  He really wasn’t sure if this was all part of some kind of elaborate rouse.  He just had this sense that all the tension in the room that he had felt building up had left, but without any lasting sense of legacy.

The Baron broke the silence first, his eyes were now closed, and his head was still tilted back.  “Do you know, I can picture perfectly the face of every young knight we have dispatched to do the Emperors bidding from this place  Some of them looked bloody terrified at the prospect of being sent out into the Known Worlds.  I can remember looking over to you and your cohort during the final evaluation stages.  You both looked like you were so full of confidence. I was worried for you, I’ll be honest.  I had no idea what sort of…prejudices… you might have to deal with during your service.  It’s not like we need any extra complications in our line of duty, now is it?  It just looked right to me though, for us to be sending you both out together like that.  I’m…I’m not just saying it was just the right message…it felt goodly…righteous even.  But blast that Ur-Oban if he didn’t blow a bloody great hole right through all that good work. The shitpile that I received concerning his betrayal from the Hawkwoods…well…you can just imagine it can’t you?  We’ve had all manner to polite courtier’s queueing up outside Baron Eviathan’s office door to make appeals for him to ‘intervene’ directly.  Slimy little bastards.

But, despite everything.  I still think it was right.  

I know some might not like me to say it, but the Empire is just too big and too damn full of nightmares for us not to be standing together.  We can’t face every threat alone.  I’ve seen too many battles fought over the years to think the future of mankind rests solely in the hands of a few very well-meaning nobles.”  The Baron took a deep breath and tilted his head forward and opened his eyes to De Havilland.

“Recently, we’ve started seeing a rot enter the order.  I don’t mean anything obviously orchestrated, just a general weakening of the values and principles that it began with.  We started seeing knights coming back from long trips to new worlds with strange ideas about how the empire should be run, where it should prevail…and even…who should be running it?”

De Havilland gave the Baron a curious look.

The Baron nodded, “Yes, all sorts of ‘well-meaning’ ideas.  In most cases it’s pretty simple to understand.  Knights have been sent to the backend of nowhere and tasked with making our empire work there.  To accomplish that task they integrate themselves fully with the local peoples, try to figure out how they all think, how they function.  The problem is, this process causes the knights ideals to soften, just a little.  They consider how they can deliver a vision of our empire to an existing and functioning society…without ever breaking it.  Without re-making it.

The problem is, you can’t.”

The Baron takes another swig of the green drink and smacks his lips together.  He examines the glass carefully.

“We had to be sure about you Anton.  I’m sorry, but that’s the truth of it.  We had to see how you would respond under pressure.  We need to know whether knights are still working for us, or…”

“Whether they work for someone else…” finishes De Havilland, tipping his own glass back and taking a gulp.

“Right enough” replied The Baron.

The room sits perfectly still whilst both men eye each other carefully.

“So…how many fail the test then?” questions De Havilland.

“It’s worrying the Emperor” came the honest reply, “Too few of the longer-serving knights retain a proper sense of perspective.”

“And what about me?” comes the obvious question from the Marquis.

“Well I don’t think you have sold us out just yet, but, I don’t think it would do you any harm to know that we are watching, and why.”

De Havilland finished his drink, “I’ll keep it in mind” he answered 

 “And what about the panel, what is their decision regarding my culpability concerning Tonbei?”

“Acquitted of all direct responsibility for the assassination attempt on Baron Christopher Hawkwood” answered De Havilland.  He sat himself down in a large comfortable chair opposite Ylanath and placed his arms on the armrests.

“Just…like that?” she asked.

“Just like that” came his response.

Ylanath shakes her head in disbelief, “It just sounds all very strange to me.  You made it seem like this could be the end of the universe.”

“Well, it could have been.  They could have sent me packing from the order, back home to serve my remaining days fighting in my brother’s army against my sister.  But, thankfully they chose not to…”

“They could have done that?” she queries, “you didn’t tell me of this!”

“I...didn’t want to worry you unduly” came an abrupt answer.

“You are unbelievable” comes back an annoyed response.

“Probably why you love me so much” retorts a smiling De Havilland.

“Ha” smiles Ylanath sarcastically.  “You don’t deserve me. I should leave you to marry one of those boring Hawkwood ladies of the court”, Ylanath pranced around the room pretending to walk like an elegant lady twirling a parasol.

De Havilland laughs for a moment and then his face starts to turn serious again.

Ylanath notices, stops playing for a moment and then comes over and sits across De Havilland’s lap.  She puts one arm round him and the other on his face.

“What is it, what is wrong?” she asks.

“My order”, he replies, “I think it could be in trouble.”

She runs a finger across De Havillands furrowed brow.

“Is there something you can do about that?” she asks.

“I don’t know” came the honest reply.

After a few moments Ylanath smiles at De Havilland playfully, 

“Did I forget to tell you how much I loved your dashing new haircut” she jokes, “Very handsome…”

“You…” mocks De Havilland, sitting forward suddenly to embrace Ylanath “are a total disgrace”.