Topic: Conflicts of interest

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-09-16 14:05 EST
"So, Guthorm's asking around for me." A scowl briefly passed over her features as she stepped out of the inn. Taneth had a peculiar habit of presenting just the right bits of information with complete obliviousness to the implications therein. An odd girl with curiosity so strangely incongruous to norm. Sylvia acknowledged she liked Taneth well enough, but there was danger there as well. She simply didn't know the girl well to trust her.

The guard who had been waiting for her by the back door stepped in at her left side upon her exit but said nothing. He had been hand picked by Ewan to protect Sylvia as she traveled while Ewan had other duties which to attend.

A sigh from the Baroness, the guard, more than aware of her feelings on his presence having been warned, still did not react but kept pace. She felt the sting of reprisal in that silence all the same. "Kieran, Ewan, Lucky...if they all think mortal danger is in the realm, they might want to look to those less prepared for it. Like that flibbity gibbet back there," continuing to grouse as she made for the Guild Hall west of the Marketplace where Kiema she hoped would be waiting. "And Guthorm. Foolish and false. What man is that who professes friendship with one breath and uses that friendship to crueler intentions with the other?" Her hand went to the hilt of her dagger instinctively, gripping and releasing as thoughts jump from one thing to another. "There are too many men in my life. I have husband, guards, sons, heart brothers...blazing pyres but I need some sensible females about."

That did get a snicker from the guard behind her. She whirled about and his recovery was swift showing her a stoic expression. Hands to her hips looking up at the man about to give him what for when she grinned and laughed as well. "Yes, yes...I know. I'm not called The Yran Rose for nothing, lad." Then she turned to manage her way through the throng of people in the Marketplace. There was at least one sensible female among her close friends and she was going to have a nice long talk with her.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-09-20 00:20 EST
The duties now set before him were perfectly clear: Information. Observation. Easier tasks had never been assigned him. What was not easy, what galled him to his core, was refraining from handing over that viking's head on a platter. That alone was not coloring his view of this land grim, but the whispish carefree attitude of some he had considered friends. If the affront is not done to them, then there is no trouble. The powerful and noble coat this land like a rusty film on the edge of an ancient blade; all glamour and show but of little use.

He had left the inn as soon as his relief arrived, glad to be rid of the need to observe how easily Taneth still interacted with the viking after being told he attacked the Baroness. Does a man's actions mean nothing in this place? If that were so, he might as well behave as sullen as he pleased, none would care either way. Did no one suspect how difficult it must be as a sworn man to the Baroness not to slit the viking from navel to neck? Yet, as a sworn man, he was told not to take vengeance. That it was not worth his time and aggravation.

Along his walk this inner turmoil was so perfectly concealed. Not a single kick of a loose stone, nor grumble of his voice. Any passerby would see a gentleman of the sword on a comfortable stroll. They would not know the assassin raged inside.

Kiema Buie

Date: 2006-09-20 18:24 EST
Kiema stood just beyond the practice field barrier watching for a cue from Ewan that he was done torturing the new recruit. The young man's breathing was ragged and heavy. Tell tale signs of his blotching skin did not keep Ewan from pacing around as though he prepared to attack once more. The Master of Arms own brow sheened with sweat, knuckles flushed pink with use and abuse, but not a breath taken in weariness or struggle. He was gifted, not just trained, in the dance of the sword and combat.

Kiema saw the music of his movement, the grace and lethalness of each lunge, just as he lunged now at the staggering man only to pull up short. The man's preemptive wince for the perceived onslaught looked comical as Ewan clapped him on the hsoulder, "Wash up and cool down. You did well." Such pure relief and pride relaxed the man and drew him up to his full stature, some inches shorter than Ewan, as he walked from the field.

"He did well?" You near drove him into the ground!" Kiema smiled spiritedly as Ewan approached. She appreciated the charm of his smile at her joke.

"Of course he did. He stood up each time, didn't he?"

A scherzo laugh, "Right, naturally that is doing well." Her tone sombered, "You're doing well in building strife between you and former friends."

He grimaced,"The very point of that is former, and why shouldn't I? There's nothing tying me here." He rested his folded arms upon the top of the barrier and stretched out his back as they spoke.

"And that is your guiding lantern, not to worry about any ties to any place or anyone."

"I'm not the one severing the ties. Perhaps I just expect more of friends than they are willing to give." A shrug blended with a sigh.

"Very well." Her hand reached to rest on one of his arms. "Are you leaving with Sylvia?"

"I will travel with her and see her safely settled, then return. During that time you'll be the main contact."

"Safe journey then. I'll see how sweet or sour the tunes have become in town. Neutrality being a more natural course of life for me." She did not feel any need to add more so than you.

Kiema Buie

Date: 2006-09-28 22:18 EST
The ink flowed smoothly from the quill as she traced out the letters for the message to travel with the caravan master northwards until a messenger was found traveling south. It would come back into the city proper and be delivered with the many other messages to an apartment not far from the Red Dragon Inn. It was a copy of the previous letter that had sailed with the ship.

She had chosen her words carefully to indicate what she could surmise from the variety of wardens' information but detail no more than truth: That Taneth and Guthorm had returned to DCH offices, and they had dressed to impress.

A seal of wax, the pressing of an interlocking trio of rings stamp, and she tucked the note into the pouch beneath the midnight blue overskirt. Surroundings examined when she rose from the table of the musicians Guild Hall. It was a quiet afternoon, and the great room was empty save the serving maid and the bar master. In time with the dancing flames of the kitchen fire sparking just past the door, she walked free of the Guild Hall and set her foot to The Marketplace just one block beyond and the awaiting caravaner.

Her own thoughts in turmoil concealed in the calm she crafted so judiciously about her so that her eyes remained a restive seablue. Dangers unrivaled teased at her senses as smoke seeps beneath the door that hides a raging inferno. She had her part to play, and how that she could play it well without the concerns drifting her attentions. A heart was an unwelcome partner in this time.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-10-01 01:36 EST
The day and half of sailing had felt good. There was nothing like the sway of the ocean beneath the boards of a good ship. His sealegs so easily regained, allowing easy movement with the pitch and roll, that he regretted his quick departure from the ship at the docks of Seansloe.

The leaves of the trees were burnishing into autumn hues, and he wrapped his memories around the feeling of home as he walked to the manor. Cian was the first of the family to meet him. "Ewan!" the lad called and scampered across the courtyard to tackle him in an embrace that Ewan scooped up into his arms. "How are you, Cian? Keeping a good watch on things, are you?"

The young master pouted, so much like His Excellency that Ewan had a difficult time not laughing at the miniature image, "Mama puts me to bed too early. I cannae guard anything right."

"Ah, but a good guard must follow the orders of his captain, and your Mama is your captain."

Speaking of, Her Excellency was walking out to meet him, no doubt eager of any news. Ewan set Cian down and patted his backside to send him on his way, "Off you go now. Your Mama and I need to talk."

He bowed and then offered out the letter he took from his satchel, "Kiema sends word. Nothing we did not expect."

Sylvia opened the letter and read quickly, then turned violet eyes on him, "Has Lucky been informed?"

Ewan nodded as they began to walk together, "A letter was sent along its route."

"What of your own news?"

A sigh, as the Baroness was ever one to get straight to the point, which is probably why he got along with her so well. It was the mercenary in her with whom he was able to walk and talk. "It will pass."

She did not press. Unusual. "Your mother has been asking to see you. Be sure you stop by. She is concerned, as she should be, but try to ease her concerns some."

He gave her a bow, "I will. I will return later this evening." She gave him a nod and he went in search of his mother. Poor lamb, she always did feel his long absences the most.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-10-01 03:50 EST
His mother had been glad to see him, and he helped with the small things around her cottage she would not let anyone else do no matter how many of his friends would try. A little spot in the roof needed rethatching, a change to the pump handle, or any sort of odd little jobs at the home.

The journey back to RhyDin had become so familiar that the surge he felt at the end just before finding his footing upon the northeastern road was little more than a nuissance. A brief stop by the manor updated him on the activities of his recruits, and he decided to continue on to the inn for a drink.

It was his good fortune that a freshly baked pumpkin pie was brought in while he was there. So a good tankard of mead, a piece of pie, and the fine company of Mercy started off his evening.

But the good fortune walked out with Mercy. His back started to ache more and more, and then the completely unintended confrontation with Taneth. "Swords and arrows," he scowled as he thought back on it pacing in his room at the manor, "I didn't mean it that way. I just didn't want her to think she had to spend time with me when her friends are there."

His intentions had been good and honorable. It was impolite to think that someone had nothing better to do than talk with him. Good manners dictated that he provide the opportunity for the person to move on. It wasn't as if she actually approached him. "She hid from me!" he called to the walls. "If she thought I was mad at her and was hiding from me, why in the world was it then my fault to give her a opportunity to escape? She spoke to me most reluctantly."

There was a knock at his door, and he moved to unlatch it with a snarl, "What?"

The soldier, though dressed in little less than breeks, "Master Corinsson, you're shouting to wake the dead, which I nearly was after today's practice."

He sighed and nodded, "Of course." He closed the door and returned to his pacing, but did not speak again. If she no longer wanted his friendship, which is all he could surmise from the cold treatment of his apology, then so be it. He had nothing to tie him here. He was tired of these conflicts of interest anyway.

There was the duty he was bound, and he should focus on that. Perhaps away from the inn; a more central place.

Kiema Buie

Date: 2006-10-01 11:36 EST
She rose early with the first note of dawn, the curtains of her small room left open to assist in this endeavor against the demands of her mind to rest on and linger in the songstream of dreams.

The jewels of dew sparkled in the morning sun upon the grasses and leaves she passed on the road to Yearling Brook. The mandolin pressed comfortingly upon her back. The fall's tease of color turned just a few leaves in the tree canopy above her to their autumn raiments. The small copse of trees cleared as she turned the bend in the road to find the rock infested fields of Yearling Brook manor just beyond.

In the practice field, she could already see the shapes of people moving through their paces. Her gift ever improved in her distance from the city, and she opened a small perception and found confusion and a weary anger taint her senses. She thought it would be something like this.

She stepped up to the barrier and set fingertips upon the top beam. Ewan was in full force, practice swords of wood sang out in vicious arcs and struck with drum beats upon the padding of the five "attackers." The men were smarting and winced at each falling blow. She whistled sharply to call a halt, and all men stepped away leaving Ewan like a sculpture in his stance still, a chilling view of his focus. "Ewan, time to make things more even, and then we'll talk upon one fall of your foes' blades." She had done this for him before, and he nodded his agreement. Perhaps even he could see his error.

Her eyes, dark brown with concern, tinged red as she siphoned away Ewan's anger and fed its hard perfection into the men, giving them an edge of emotion to push away their confusion. The practice began again, and this time, more evenly. Ewan defended more and attacked less, the men struck out with confidence and the dance ended as the tip of the wooden blade stabbed out to smack firmly upon Ewan's padded ribcage.

The game played, Kiema discontinued her meddling and waited for Ewan to join her, which he did without preamble or hesitation, "Your sense of manners do not work here, Ewan. When will you learn that?"

"I'm the one who is supposed to change because its more convenient for everyone?" He drew his arm across his brow to wipe away the sweat. A high flush caressed his cheeks from his exercise this morning.

"No, but you must be more careful with what you say. I did try to explain to Taneth that it is your way to give people the opportunity to depart your company, but you should know better by now, Ewan. People here aren't of obligations. They do as they like, you said as much yourself not more than a month ago."

"You did what?" She had not anticipated such a caustic emotion."Kiema, you are not my commander and you are not my sister. Stop trying to explain me to other people as if I'm a puzzle that needs directions. They'll either learn on their own or they have no interest in learning. Why is it I am the one needing to apologize when I've done nothing wrong but be a man of my word and be more than polite to those who would see my liege lady harm?"

He was purging now and better at her than others. "You are right, Ewan, but when in Nemeia..." She left the saying unfinished for he knew it as well as she. One had to adapt to their surroundings if one wished to join in the song already playing. "What is done is done. You and I will both reap whatever seeds we've sown. To the matter at hand, care for a trip to West End and see what lingers there?" He was a man too strongly dictated by propriety, and she saw this world as a poison to him, but one he did not so easily give up for the new friends he valiantly tried to make. Duty was always Ewan's cure.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-10-05 17:47 EST
The message was written quickly, but clearly, across the half sheet of parchment. Mr. Howe had made an appearance at the inn just last night. Nothing overtly dangerous happened, but his keen interest on Taneth as well as the briefcase that held a strange orb-like object, caused Ewan all sorts of uncomfortabe feelings. He needed to get word to the Barrister quickly.

The swift, precise folding of the parchment allowed for a firm seal with wax. Dawn?s call had not broken over the horizon, but its scouts of grey shaded the sky as Ewan walked from the manor and to the stables. He would have to ride into the city in order to catch the caravan master before they left today.

Zesperis, a trakehner, greeted Ewan with a low whicker as he stepped through the door. ?Hello there, lovely,? he crooned and went to stroke the mare?s black neck. After a thorough morning brushing, he set to preparing her for riding. A fine horse, Zesperis enjoyed the routine and felt excitement at anticipating a good run in the morning. ?Easy there, love, be just a moment,? whispered as he led her out of the stables. Without the need of a step up, he mounted up into the saddle with ease. Ewan had been told on more than one occasion by ladies of the Yransea court he was a striking figure from astride the seventeen hand heights horse?s back. He had brushed the common compliment aside with due humility, but he could not deny he felt easy and free upon Zesperis.

With a click of his tongue and the barest urging, they set out at a trot from the manor courtyard and headed to town. He checked the saddle bags to be sure they were empty, then checked once more the letter remained tucked safely beneath his vest before he gave a kick to her sides and set off in a refreshing gallop down the road. As the caress of the breeze teased at his hair trying to pull it free of the ponytail, his thoughts wandered over the last night?s events. Beyond Mr. Howe and his observations his thoughts went on to the confusion of the late conversation with Mercy. He sought some recollection of manner or design that would give him a better idea of what had happened in that exchange other than the distinct impression that he had closed an unknown open door.

Her vengeance was priority; he knew that. His thoughts were being too easily manipulated by the dangers of the inn and its emotional tendencies. He knew better, and if nothing else, Mercy deserved someone who could devote himself to her and her cause. He had his own duties that would ever drive a wedge between them.

He shook his head sharply. He was making inferences unwarranted for the evidence he had. Fortune diverted the troubling path of his thoughts as the city arrived around him and his duty set aside any other ideas.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-10-06 01:21 EST
He rode Zesperis slowly in the dark of night without a care in the world plaguing his mind. It had turned out to be a most advantageous evening for him, and he could barely wait for the coming days. The Norsefolk, with their high temper and large egos could not have played their parts better if they had been told what to do and say. He knew if he just placed himself in proximity they would announce boasts and mock him. It had been perfect, and Ewan grinned his triumph to the night sky.

His part in this masquerade was now at an end. He must now walk in shadows and darkness where his skills best performed. Other parts must now take the lead and stage light, and he sent good thoughts upon the night wind to them.

Kiema Buie

Date: 2006-10-06 10:35 EST
She slept to the rise and fall of the ocean as the corvette road the waves out on its journey to Yransea. After the brief exchange of information, Kiema dispensed with her desire for sleep in an unmoving bed and went to the docks. A message sent to Ewan of her information and intentions before she boarded the vessel and it set for the home of Sylvia and Kieran.

A dream of pawn pieces, her dance among them, her friends out of reach and out of her protection, brought her to a jolting wakefullness. The light of day was filtered through drawn dark curtains and the ninth bell gave her the hour. She rose and dressed, tying back auburn hair with a ribbon of sapphire blue, she made her way to the deck where a young midshipman gave her indication of the Captain's whereabouts.

The ocean had a song of its own, and her footing was sure and steady in the rhythm she could feel. "Good morrow, Captain. Have we crossed?"

"Good morrow, Kiema. We have and the winds favor us. We should reach Seansloe in a few hours. We'll provision for Anria and be sailing upon the evening tide. Will that accomodate your needs?"

She smiled at the elder seaman and took in a cleansing breath of tangy air, "That will be splendid, Captain. I'll leave you to your duties." She gave a curtsey and made for the foredeck, careful to not disrupt the flow of the ship. Duties...so many of them had duties. It was heartening to be back, and The Circelus was undoubtedly waiting.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-10-06 11:15 EST
He packed his bags. The note from Kiema lay open on his small bedside table. He slung the pack onto his shoulder and pocketed the note. He would wait until Sylvia arrived to be sure the information Kiema had shared with him got to Her Excellency.

Quick march down the stairs, he dropped his pack as soon as he was out the door. Over to the practice yard, some of the lads at the work of the day. "Step into that lead again, Mesres, and I'll remind you not to in a way you won't forget," he called out with a scathing grin. The man gave a nod back, and sure enough he did not step into the lead again.

The second came up from the yard and the host mistress joined him from the small garden as if they knew he needed to speak with them. And so he did, "The Baroness is due to arrive this afternoon. I'll be meeting with her in town before she comes up this way. I'm fairly certain she'll be sending me back to Yransea for some time."

With a round of acknowledgements, he nodded and took up his pack once more to head into town to await Sylvia's arrival.

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-06 22:52 EST
What Ewan probably did not expect was to see Kieran walking down the road beside Sylvia. "Don't be so shocked, Ewan. I do come here from time to time, though last time was not too pleasant," a sardonic smile.

Sylvia carried Aidan and Cian struggled to be free of his father's grasp to go meet the Master of Arms, but Kieran held firm. The boy needed to learn not to act on every impulse; even now at this young age. Cian finally gave up, and asked, "Papa, may I go see Ewan, please?" Kieran smiled and released his son to scamper freely to Ewan, who crouched down to scoop the boy up in his arms.

"How was your journey?" Ewan asked as he approached the small group, Colwyn, manservant, and Miriam, the nanny and Colwyn's wife, in tow along with a cart of baggage. "Planning on staying long?"

Sylvia supplied Ewan's answers, "Journey was fine, and we plan on staying for a little bit of time." Kieran watched her expression change ever so slightly, the softness of her violet eyes hardens with a deeper knowledge. "We met with Kiema before leaving. I believe she may have need of your skills if what the Circelus sent was so dark as to cause her to hurry in the meeting."

Ewan wasted no time, setting down Cian with such care, "Then I should prepare to go." He bows, "Be safe." The man departed with such stealthy speed, Kieran could not help but recall the first time Ewan had spared in the festival sports. Not yet the age of twelve and he managed to disarm and defeat every man before him. "He has a gift."

Cian frowned up at his father, and Kieran could see himself in that small face, "Gift, papa?"

"Gift, talent, he is very skilled in his job, Cian. A man to have at your side." Kieran took his son's hand once more as they all moved on to the manor. Cian's only reply to that was, "I like him."

Sylvia smiled at Kieran and then Cian, "As you should. Now we must hurry. Your father and I have some place to be tonight, so I expect good behavior from you both for Colwyn and Miriam"

Aidan had very little to reply to that, but Cian gave a solemn nod, his fingers wiggled slightly in Kieran's hand. They walked on to Yearling Brook manor with anticipation of rest and food before the night's events.

Ewan Corinsson

Date: 2006-10-07 14:43 EST
"You've a visitor, Kiema," Ewan's escort said as she ushered him through the gate of the gardened wall. He gave a bow to his escort, no doubt one of the many Changlings that lived and worked within the walls of the Circelus compound. He walked on to Kiema who had not risen from her stone bench seat.

"Did you see Sylvia?" In such a place they could speak openly of their schemes.

He nodded, motioned to the space on the bench next to her, and sat there upon her return nod, "I did see her, though she mentioned you had already spoken with her." He looked about the garden, seeing the shaded corners concealing at this moment nothing. "She indicated that perhaps my talents could be of use to you -- or rather the Circelus."

He saw her eyes darken a rich umber. "Yes, yes I think you are the perfect choice to accompany me." Her smile seemed reticent, "How opportune your arrival is, Ewan. I was sitting here thinking which of my brethren to ask to join me in this task, and none truly seemed suitable."

He took his friend's hand, "Then we journey together once more. I take it we go silently into territory where unknown enemies may hunt us down as we try to obtain our goal...whatever that may be?"

As swift as an arrow her eyes brightened to a green not unlike his own and she laughed, rising so fluidly from her seat, "Ewan! I may make a storyteller of you yet!"

He laughed and stood as well, "I'll leave such entertainments to you."

And just as quickly, her eyes darkened once more, "And dealings of death I will leave to you."

He nodded and walked behind her as they left the gardens.

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-09 23:22 EST
?So, he lives still.? Kieran replied beside her at their dining table in the kitchen. Yearling Brook manor had begun as a simple two story home of her own many years ago now. But with the changes in her life, the needs of her friends, the house had grown. Still, she enjoyed taking meals in the kitchen just as she had most of her life and this was one of the few places left to her that she could.

?No death is ever as it seems here,? she smiled to him while reaching over to take up a napkin and wipe Cian?s chin where milk from his glass had dribbled. He squirmed a bit at being cleaned up, but stilled at one arched look from his father. Not for the first time, Sylvia wondered at the power Kieran had over their son.

?So I am learning, but it does give me some comfort to know that if I hear of your death in Rhydin, I should not believe it,? a grim joke, but he leaned over to kiss her warmly. She knew he did not like to think on her death near or far from him. He recalled his father?s pain too clearly. Still, she was glad he could at least find some humor.

She broke the kiss reluctantly only to spy her sons watching them with some form of skepticism, or disgust, she was unsure which. ?As I was saying, it also seems Guthorm has made his contacts, and Taneth continues to be blissfully unaware of her danger. When she does, or maybe when she is upset by something, I?ve not really deciphered which, she starts harming herself. It is most peculiar.?

?If things go as darkly as you suspect with this DCH, then she may end up destroying herself.?

Sylvia stopped to gaze at Kieran. She had never really thought of that, and it seemed rather likely, but -- ?No, no. Mr. Dewey sees some need of her, and while it does not bode well, he will undoubtedly keep her well and healthy until that use is fulfilled.?

?That?s something, but not much.? Kieran added, ?And what of your part in this??

It always came to this. ?I am not sure I have a part anymore. Lucky is recovering, though he seems to still be keeping his survival an unknown to DCH. I don?t know how long that will last with everyone seeing him at the Inn. Guthorm is taking to his role so thoroughly, that there is little I can do in contact with him while Kiema is gone. Taneth is beyond me --?

?--She is beyond many, I think.? Kieran reached over to gather up Aidan who had completed his oatmeal.

?Neither here nor there, beloved. Lucky is taking matters into his hands and not sharing how I can assist in any way, but that?s not uncommon either. Guilt has got a strangle hold on his senses.? Sylvia drank the last of her grape juice.

?As you have told me many times before, Lucky is a very wise man and is to be trusted in all things. I?ll not fault him for keeping you in the dark. He probably knows, as I do, that you?ll risk yourself as if you?re still a mercenary with a sword to sell.? Kieran scowled, which of course meant Cian had to scowl as well.

?Do stop that, and I do have some sense in my head. I know I?m not a mercenary anymore.?

?Love, that isn?t what I meant. Of course you?ve sense in your head, or I?d not have married you. I just meant sometimes your heart rules your head.? He was trying to soften his words.

Sylvia just gave him his just desserts, ?Good thing for you it does, or we?d not have been at all.?

Kieran mock gasped and covered Aidan?s ears, which caused the little boy to squirm, ?Sylvia, in front of the boys dare you take away their lives?? He then reached over to tickle Cian followed by a tickle to Aidan, and both boys were giggling.

She could only shake her head and rise, ?Time to face the day and perhaps make a trip to town.?

?Not,? Kieran spoke with some sternness, ?without me.?

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-11 16:52 EST
Kieran kept his discomfort at his wife?s idea to visit town to a minimum, or at least he thought so. ?You?re grinding your teeth, beloved,? she whispered to him as they crossed a street between two hurried carts.

?How could you tell in this ruckus?? He barely managed a grin and realized that it probably looked more like a snarl.

?Years of practice. Come on now. We?re nearly there.? She wiggled raven brows at him. Her enthusiasm was palpable. There had been no doubt between them that she had left an adventurous, dangerous life to live with him. Her position having changed from mercenary to baroness brought with it fetters she accepted, but still chafed against. They had talked often on the subject, keeping nothing unsaid between them.

Now, she had adventure just outside of her reach, and he had to be sure she did not tumble to her demise in trying to grasp it. ?Where are we going? I thought it was just a stroll.?

?I?m getting a look at things. See if any of Mr. Dewey?s or Mr. Howe?s lackeys have patterns that can be followed, traced,? a wicked gleam to violet eyes, ?exploited.?

?You cannot attack them so you decide to make things inconvenient. Isn?t it a little harsh to drag their poor unfortunates into this?? He quickly added, "Have you spoken with others? Maybe they already tried this tack. I mean, in a way, isn't that what your previous friend is trying to become?"

?Blazing pyres, did I say I was going to kill them? They are already in it. Maybe it will be a chance for them to get out of it. As to Othinsson, yes you are right. But does not mean we can't play the other side of the coin. It only aids his cause.? Sylvia stopped at a caf? nestled among the buildings that Kieran had come to know as the West End.

He joined her at the table she had chosen while she signaled for service. ?I don?t think they can get out, even if they had the desire. My understanding is these, beings, are of some great power. Not easily to they let prey or pawn from their grasp.?

The waitress, a very young girl, not much more than thirteen from the look of her, pushed a red ringlet back behind her ear, ?Yes, miss??

?Apple tart if you?ve one and a glass of?cider, yes, thank you,? Sylvia smiled absently to the girl, watching the buildings across the way as though she admired the architecture.

Kieran waved her off with a smile of his own. He did not hunger. A dark twist to his stomach was staving off hunger. He could feel the danger like a rough cloth against his skin. Things were not safe here for all the grand fa?ades of buildings?and men.

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-14 18:17 EST
?You really should try one of these,? she smiled and offered him a bite of her apple tart, which he leaned forward to partake.

The pastry was light and the apple sweetened and spiced to perfection, he had to admit it was a pleasure to eat even if his stomach was clenched with tension. ?Of course,? he grinned and reached for her juice, ?now I need to have a sip of this to wash it down.?

But Sylvia was no longer paying attention. He turned to where she gazed, and saw a young man stepping out of a building. He seemed no more extraordinary than any other man, and Kieran discerned no particular reason why he would take up Sylvia?s interest. ?Via??

The deeper question would go unanswered as a boy approached. ?My lord,? the messenger made haste in his bow to him, then spoke quickly, ?You asked to be notified when the merchant arrived at Yearling Brook.?

?So, he has arrived? Well and good. We?ll be there shortly.? Kieran?s smile was one that offered thanks and finished conversations without the need of words. He rose as the messenger departed with on the heels of the wind to convey back to the manor of their lord?s arrival.

Kieran stood and when Sylvia did not join him, brows raised over hazel eyes and he once again tried to gain her attention, ?Via??

?You go ahead, Kieran. Something has caught my eye, and I?d like to keep a watch for a bit longer.? Her hand reached out to his and gave it a loving squeeze.

But he knew that look in her eyes all too well. ?Via, don?t go seeking trouble, or let it find you.?

?Warnings are getting old, Kieran.? She scowled at him.

?Well, getting old is just what I intend you to do, so, I suggest you heed me.? He moved to kiss her, trying to lovingly but convincingly sway her to his point of view.

?You?ve a meeting to attend, so don?t get started,? a tease and she swatted him away.

He walked, his shadow following at a distance and once he rounded the corner, he stepped back to take a look at her, tried to see what she saw. There she sat, ankles crossed and black hair in wind tails at her temples, and not moving. He would simply have to press her for more information later. Right now, he had some business to transact to assure the continued health of his barony.

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-14 21:07 EST
?Come on,? she whispered watching the young man walk down the street at such a slow pace that she might be obliged to order another drink to give herself space. Then he quickened his step, and she did not tarry any longer. There was a sufficient gathering of people in the streets to lose him if she held back too long.

There was not much to discern this young man from any other, except the parcel lacking address or any form of identification, at least not to her eyes. While Kieran had a good point in questioning the value of
appropriating one of the law firm?s underlings, afterall the men, or whatever they are, of DCH seemed to hold little value for those of their employ.

It was time to see what they carried out in their day-to-day business, and this unassuming package might just hold a clue. The young man turned down a street and she followed at a seemly distance only to find once she turned the corner and walked a few feet the street changed from what it was expected to be. It had darkened considerably for no reason that she could comprehend, and she cursed her impetuousness.

?Blazing pyres, turn back, turn back now,? she growled at herself, but as she did so she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and she drew her dagger in a smooth motion, getting into fighting stance and place the wall at her back as she tried to retrace her steps. The attackers were unidentifiable and not unlike the very wisps of smoke one would see rise from ashes. But their weapons were real enough and when Sylvia?s silver dagger hit its mark, gaping holes in the vapor would appear. Was this the DCH? She didn?t think so. No, this wasn?t their style. Then again, did she even know their style? All their styles? It was not use questioning now. She needed to deal with the matters at hand.

Perhaps it was three, no more surely, came at her, and when the group was finally dispatched, Sylvia collapsed to her knees in the street lifting her hand away from the wound to her left side that stained her clothing red with blood. ?Blazing pyres?? she mumbled, pressed her hand to the wound again, and began to crawl to the mouth of the alleyway. How had it gotten so far away?

She should not have sent her shadow away.

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-15 17:50 EST
His business with the merchant had gone well, better than he had anticipated in fact. He looked forward to the evening meal when he could share with Via the specifics of the contract and gain her thoughts on the matter. But evening meal came and went without her return, and his alarm could not manifest itself in its true concern. He had to keep himself calm for his sons.

Cian, perhaps sensed something amiss, but Aidan was kept in the care of his nanny. Kieran did not hesitate to send out the fighters training at the manor in search of her. "Check the West End first. Then try the Inn. Also try the docks...damn it check everywhere." The men had no need for his anger to spur them on. He saw it in their faces: guilt, concern, and determination.

He would leave the search to them until morning, when one team of men returned with Sylvia's shadow in tow. The man was pale, fevered, and out of his wits. With strict instructions for Colwyn and Miriam to take the boys back to Yransea in all haste, he joined the search for his wife.

Starting at the Red Dragon Inn, he searched its grounds as thoroughly as he could, and when the Barrister spoke of not seeing her in some time, he knew his search would have to go to less familiar territory, though little of Rhydin was familiar to him. His hopes rested in strangers, and that left him siding with despair.

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-16 17:47 EST
A hazy unreality tugged upon Sylvia's senses, and she succumbed to them more than once. Dreams were more pleasant, less painful. A warmth of love and safety held her in his arms there. Eventually, though, a voice and insistent pushing on her shoulder brought her up from that cocoon of serenity. Blinking away the grey unfocused surroundings, she tried to lift up onto elbows, but waves of pain flooded her from her left side. She heard a cackle, rattling lungs harboring untold amounts of phlegm, at her side, ?Oh, ye?ll be feelin? that dearie for a wee bit longer. Pain not so bad now. Stitched you up. Ye slept as so the wind howling could not wake ye, nor the dead rights claim ye either, though. Living ye are.?

Her hand drifted to her side and felt a strange wrapping, not the softness of cloth, but rougher, fibers in straight lines. She tried to focus on the person whose lumpy shadow and unsteady gait shuffled around the cot where she lay. ?How long??

?Whose time? What time? Where?s time?? another rheumy laugh that tumbled into a hacking cough followed by a spit. ?Not long. Long enough.? The shape came closer and finally Sylvia could see by the lamplight brought with the figure, that it was a man, perhaps old by view of hair and skin, but young in the eyes. ?Here, here?drink ye this. Easing pain.?

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-16 17:49 EST
Sylvia drank the brew readily enough. If this man had harmful intentions, it was unlikely he would have saved her from bleeding to death; unless he had some strange desire to heal and harm in a twisted cycle. While the tea, thinking of no better term, tasted bitter and rank, the aftertaste was less so, like a memory of autumn spices. She could feel the results of this concoction quickly as well. Up on elbows, she looked down at the cut of her tunic that revealed the bandage below. Mustard colored leaves lay row upon row against her skin. ?Thank you for this.?

He cackled again, ?Shouldn?t be walking into shadows following their kind.?

?I was following a messenger.?

He spat loud and then stomped it into the dirt below his feet, ?Their messenger. Their shadows?

?So it was Dewey, Cheetham, and Howe,? she hissed.

?Eh? Hmm? Who? What?? He eyed her close and she could see the variety of blue that made up the irises of his eyes.

She shook her head, ?Nothing. Nevermind.? Maybe it wasn?t. Maybe she had fallen into a trap set for someone else. Something outside of DCH. She had to get back to talk with Sid, who knew more of their dealings than she. Still, Sylvia lacked knowing where she was, how she had gotten here, and how to get back. Blurring of her vision lay her back on the cot. As warm dreams sent out beckoning images, she heard the man say, ?That?s right, ye, sleep now. More to be done yet before you go.?

She tried to ask what more, but the safety and love reclaimed her for itself.

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-18 23:46 EST
He had searched. His men had searched. Nothing could they find. Time became a weapon against him, beating him down and cutting at his heart. In the truth of his despair, he knew he had to leave Rhydin. He could not abandon his sons who so needed him now with Sylvia gone. Never had they been without one or the other of them, and now three days had gone. Ewan was out of reach. The one man he could trust to search for Via without question or asking. If she were to be found, he would do so.

Now Kieran had to leave her abandoned, and now he knew what his father had felt.

In a desperate hope that the Master Barrister, Lucky as he is called, though Kieran could not see much luck in his life, would patronage the inn, the Baron arrived at an early hour to await the chance of asking a boon of the man. He had a plea to make to the Barrister to keep searching, as Via had done for him.

The man had not shown, and Kieran left with little more than a fading ember of hope.

None to search for her. None to bring her home.

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-19 13:00 EST
A light of unimaginable strength flashed beyond her eyelids, turning her vision pale peach and sparkling with surprised stars as she snapped open her eyes. There was nothing beyond that could have caused the light that she could see, and yet, she was certain. She hesitated in speaking to listen for sounds of thunder, but even if a storm were growing beyond, the room gave no indication of outside light able to enter. She rose to her elbows and looked down at her wound. The leaves had been removed and beneath was a two inch row of stitches. At least the man, for all his oddities, had known to use catgut to close the wound instead of a searing iron. Fingers touched the tender flesh with delicacy.

And he was there, peering over her wound, so suddenly that Sylvia started and reached for a dagger that was not there. ?Yes, nicely done. Yes, good work. Eumeneua?s work. Small fingers,? he wiggled his own blunt digits in her face. ?Work is doing. You must be doing, too.?

?Where did you come from and where am I? And-? she gave a grin, ?don?t answer me with questions.?

He sat on the edge of her cot as she sat up fully for the first time in -- days? Perhaps weeks? ?You trod too close to the veil, young one. The messenger you followed knows the paths and how to avoid its traps. You are in the space between smoke and vapor, and you are safe.?

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-19 17:36 EST
?Your guilt will do you no good and your sons even less,? Miriam scolded as she surveyed the tray of uneaten food on the corner of his desk. She had been, since his mother?s death, so much like a mother to him. ?I?ll send for Colwyn.?

This was also her latest cure for whatever frustrations plagued Kieran. ?No, no, I do not need to bother Colwyn.?

But Colwyn was already there, no fetching had been required, which meant to Kieran a request to follow. ?May I speak plainly, m?lord??

?Would it do me any good to say no?? Kieran scowled and pushed back from his desk with such a force that the scraping of his chair legs against the rug covered floor caught and nearly sent him backwards.

?It would, as ever, be better if you did not, but I will abide by your wishes.?

Recovered from his near mishap with the carpet, Kieran stood and paced, giving Colwyn the permission he desired with a nod and minor wave of his hand before hands clasped behind him.

?You brood as if she has died, and beat yourself up over not having found the body,? he stored over to stand in Kieran?s path and gain his attention. ?You must allow Sylvia to have her war, for make no mistake, a war this is. Just as she saw you leave for yours, without news of your whereabouts many times, and she went on. You will go on as well.?

?It is not the same, Colwyn. She is not lost in a war, she is lost?I don?t know where, and friendless. I had armies around me, and then Ewan to protect me. I?ve abandoned her!? His anger had a bitter, iron tang in his mouth.

?And her not coming to search for you when there were others better suited to the task was abandonment?? Colwyn questioned mildly.

?No, of course not, but no one is looking for her in the wretched land.?

?How do you know? She has known those people longer than she has known you.?

Kieran turned and struck out at Colwyn and then gaped aghast at his actions, ?Colwyn, I--?

Fortunately, the older man, long past soldiering days and now a manor keeper, had stepped out of the way. ?It is the old wound, then, that twists itself deeper. That her ties to that land might sway her from you.? Colwyn sighed, shook his head, and walked for the door. ?You are wise in many ways, but your father?s sorrow has scarred you deeply and blunted your thoughts on such matters of love. It is your hour, Kieran, to break the chain you are forging.? And he was gone to leave his lord in wonderment.

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-19 19:32 EST
Sylvia eyed him with even greater wonderment and suspicion for his plain speaking and his warm tone. ?You have my thanks, but my husband, my family, my friends ? they will worry. I cannot stay.?

He laughed and rose, his features falter, as if a younger man, hail and hearty took his place for just a moment. ?You did not know the paths, and you found a trap. But if you wish to continue in your intents, to help your friends, then you must learn those traps. Here, you will learn.?

?Please, let me return to them.? She swung her legs free of the cot and paused to clear her swimming vision.

?Leaving is in your power, but you risk the tipping of a balance that has been in place for many generations beyond your reckoning.?

?That?s not unlikely. Everything is greater than me. I can only play what part I have in the time I?m given.?

His hand on her shoulder was fatherly, unlike her real father, comforting, encouraging, and warning. ?You speak resignedly, but not without some hint of wisdom. Perhaps it is before your time, or your role is as a leaf casting about. Do not seek more for yourself than is granted.?

That was a chastisement if ever she heard one, and she could do no more than watch him as he faded in vapor to nothingness.

She had learned, through the long strange dreams that spoke through safety of unsafe things, that her attack was not the doing of DCH. The messenger she had followed had been a lackey of the law firm. She had been told through her own informants that he would be in the West End that morning. His business there was not known; perhaps his own, perhaps not. That had been her intention that morning to find out more. "Which morning was that?" she wondered outloud.

Time was becoming all too fluid.

SylviaNightshade

Date: 2006-10-21 23:38 EST
An ocean of voices crashed unceasingly against her senses until she woke abruptly without the feel of the cot beneath her, but the discomfort of gravel against her cheek and pressing beneath her hands. With a confused grimace, she tried to raise up from apparently the middle of the road somewhere. A thunder of pain rolled through her body and she gasped, looking down at her side. Surely enough there were the fine stitches, but the pain was all there in its fullness. ?Blazing pyres, I?ve got to get...?

?Ye alright there, miss?? A pair of boots and a familiar voice.

?Is that you, Gwyr, and where in all that?s holy am I?? She rolled onto her back, for that was about what she could manage on her own. Sure enough, there was the face she had seen time and again. The man had an uncanny knack for being where he was needed. She would have to ask Lucky about that some day.

The pain was insistent on her staying still, but she disobeyed. Gwyr gave her a hand up, more than a stranger would have thought he was able, but she had learned long ago not to underestimate him. ?You?re on a road south of town,? and without the prompting question, ?and you?ve been gone for nigh on a week, miss.?

?You all get a week, and I get?I couldn?t tell you what I got, other than a pain in my side, but that was before.? She lets out a slow breath to steady her mind and her body. ?So, just happen to stumble across my prone body, did you?? A slow walk begun.

His uneven gait matched hers, ?Not exactly.?

?Blazing pyres,? she muttered. ?I need to get to Kieran. You?ll be telling Lucky I?m alive and well, yes??

?If you wish, miss,? he questioned the ?well? part of that statement with obvious tone to his voice. ?The Baron has returned to his homeland with your sons.?

?Mm, yes, and he was right to do so.? The walk was going to take well into the night at their snail?s pace. ?This won?t do, Gwyr. You go ahead. I doubt I?m in much danger again. Whatever gods people believe in can?t hate me that much. I?m too insignificant.? A wry smile as she remembered the stranger?s words of not seeking more than what is given to her. ?Thank you, Gwyr, and pass on my thanks to Lucky.?

Gwyr did not increase his pace, but continued to walk beside her. She knew he had no true concern for her, nor was he stubborn, so evidently he had orders that overpowered hers. ?Well, always wanted to know more about you, Gwyr, and I need conversation to distract me from the ache in my side. So, start chattering.?

Did the man ever laugh?

Kieran Logansson

Date: 2006-10-24 10:39 EST
He watched her disembark with cautious steps and knew she was hurt. Here was a decision to be made. His sons had not been told of the messenger bird arriving with news she was coming home. Now he had to decide what kind of homecoming it would be. Colwyn's words haunted his thoughts. Is it like when he came back from battle? Via never once scolded him for risks on the fields of war.

Her approach lacked any hesitation, but he saw in her violet eyes that she braced for his sternness. Did she return to him out of duty, because it was the proper thing to do? Is this what he wanted to see when she came home each time? He could be as strong as she and would be.

As she stopped before him, the hurry of the wharf passing them by, he asked, "Where are you hurt?"

"My left side, just beneath the ribs, but I'm only sore. I'm healing," she added reassuringly.

Careful of her wound, he wrapped an arm about her, drew her close, and kissed her with all the love he felt as she had always greeted him upon his return. He felt her surprise warm into an exchange of her own love until he broke the kiss and whispered against her lips, "It is good to have you home."