Topic: Teobern

Roland

Date: 2010-05-31 09:59 EST
The West Bretland Lodge, ostensibly for the use of the entire Holy Order of Saint Aldwin as a retreat, had instead served as Sir Roland's home away from RhyDin -- and away across the sea from the Barony's busier island of Teodin -- since about October. Construction had been completed in September by the knights themselves, and yet, sensing Roland's need for greater solitude as he mastered the beast named Arctos, they encouraged him to help the Bretland settlers to explore and tame the wilderness and set up his headquarters at the Lodge.

It was a sprawling two story cabin (three stories if you counted the half-basement) on a steep slope, up the hill from a fledgling fishing village and lumberyard called Skjorr. Nestled between the mountains and the sea, the site of the house itself provided a very rare vantage point on the surrounding landscape: the whole of the village was laid out to the south and southeast, mostly nestled close to the water and following the curve of a small cove; north-northwest, the hill-slope narrowed and crested after several hundred meters as the beginning of a long, rocky ridge; and due east, sharp and preternatural eyes could make out a high valley dotted with farmhouses, mostly shepherds with very few and small fields.

Bretland was good for many things, hard and cold yet bountiful in its own right, but few crops grew well along this stretch of her rocky coast. Like much of West Teodin, West Bretland's waters were often rough and treacherous, and only the lure of precious carolmagnium drew settlers any further out than Skjorr. The predators here were unusually clever, and even some of the types of bears and mountain lions seemed to organize into packs like wolves...

But they feared Arctos, who often prowled the ill-defined frontier of the Bretland colony, and when any creature ran too far unchecked, the ancient bear made a kill.

His keeper Roland stood on the Lodge's large deck, at the southwest corner that provided the excellent view of village, ridge and valley. A brass spyglass sat on the railing next to him, but nothing caught his eyes nor his now more subtly trained nose, not enough to warrant further inspection. He knew someone was climbing the hill towards his house, and knew enough to surmise it was a very good friend; the thought made him smile.

His visitor and increasingly close friend Silas Greyshott slumbered in a comfortable chair indoors, buried under his broad-brimmed hat and a thousand old documents, but there were other signs he was around: Roland had out his hand-carved wooden pipe, packed carefully with a spicy tobacco, puffing almost constantly on it. Though it might grow on him more as time wore on, so far he only ever took it up when the young wizard came by, and they spent long hours poring over the legends and archives of the ancient part-elf city Teobern... Roland had become more and more curious about their role in Bretland centuries ago, ever since he had glimpsed ruins far inland and up north -- too far and too dangerous to go in human form and see with human eyes.

Until recently, Silas? visits had been frequent; for most of the last eight weeks the wizard had been ?exiled? to the Barony, and as a result spent most of his time in RhyDin in active defiance. It was not the only one of the Baron?s orders that the knight had to stomach through simple loyalty, but this had been the first among them to affect a personal friend. Now both sides had come to ignore the exile and plans were made for reconciliation, and other concerns reclaimed precedence in Roland?s busy mind. His education continued once more.

With Silas' help he had brushed up on his Middle English and Latin, and was finally mastering Teobric Elvish; the winter had transformed him into as much of a medieval scholar as a holy soldier, and his own pile of translations sat on his favorite table, next to the pile of ancient books Silas had brought him earlier that day. His academic thoughts scattered as Vidya neared and he thought of seeing her again; but still the images of ancient Teobern and its puzzling myths lingered in the back of his mind, and made him smile all the more.

He set his foot on the railing, leaned and smoked his pipe, and waited for Vidya to arrive.

Another day she might have come running up from the woods on soundless fox feet, or slunk her way along the ridge to the cabin. Today VeeJay bounced ? bounded up the slope from the village on two feet. From the bottoms of her bright green Converse shoes to the top of her head with curls caught up in a bouncing beribboned ponytail, she was vibrant colors and a bubbling laugh. Her yellow-green eyes were merry as she skipped backward up the slope, calling after the fisherman who?d accompanied her partway. ?Tell Magda I?ll be back to visit soon ? and thank you for the fish!?

The line of smoked fish in question was slung in a bag over her shoulder, and bounced against her back when she spun to finish her trek up the hill. The pungent smoky scent would have drowned out the tobacco in the air for someone with a less sensitive nose. The sight of the pipe triggered another bubbling laugh as she came into clear sight of the porch and saw Roland leaning there. ?How long has Silas been here this time??

Though Vidya and Roland hadn?t been living together ? she hadn?t given up her job, after all ? their visits had been frequent enough that she knew the tell-tale signs of another prolonged study session. She used the last few strides up the hill for momentum and launched herself up at the deck, bypassing the stairs entirely. Landing on the outside of the rail next to where Roland stood on the inside, she leaned over to claim a kiss, and then asked with a grin, ?And when was the last time either of you stopped for something to eat??

Over the railing to a slightly more stable perch sitting on the wood only took a moment ? here at the cabin, Vee usually released her careful constraints and moved with all of her natural speed. She let the bag of smoked fish fall onto the deck with a careless thump before she spread her arms wide for an embrace. Her last job had been longer than usual and not at all in her normal vein; she wanted that hug and something to distract her mind. So before Roland had even had a chance to answer her first questions, she added another to the queue. ?Have you found out anything else interesting about those ruins??

It was one of the things she loved about Roland, after all, his active and curious mind. Vidya couldn?t read Middle English or Latin, much less Teobric Elvish, but history had always been one of her passions ? her second major in college ? and the puzzle of those ruins they had seen on one of their farther-ranging expeditions was fascinating. If there was something to be found in the parchments and books she could smell inside, she was confident that Roland would hunt it out.

Roland was too busy making sure first that he had kissed her, then that he was holding her, to answer her questions, and glad that the first one passed by -- he and the wizard had skipped a meal, though Vidya would likely guess it. His kisses were whiskery and ticklish, so he abandoned his pipe and made sure to give her neck a good dozen of them.

On top of his renewed interest in medieval studies, changes in Roland's appearance had him looking more the part of a medieval warrior or some other bygone relic: he had grown out a very short beard, and let his hair drop longer to his shoulders, though it was more often drawn back. Even in modern dress, with a sword over his shoulder he looked right at home in the middle of an ancient story about brave knights and lost cities...

As luck would have it, the very story he and his colleague were beginning to unravel.

"I think we have made a little more progress," he said, conservatively; they had puzzled out quite a lot. "From the lay of the land and the position of the stars... it had something to do with astronomy, maybe. Like Carnac or Stonehenge, but a little more sophisticated." His French had softened, and his English had sharpened, a side effect of the company he kept in Bretland. It did not hesitate as it once did, and he almost, almost could pass for a native speaker.

"The records of a traveling monk mentioned places like this... though we think it will take a little more research in the field to discover which this one is. Perhaps there are markings, if we look closely."

Roland smiled and laced his fingers behind her neck, fiddling with her hair. "Enough of ancient history. It will be the same tomorrow. What of your stories? Any good mysteries?" His eyes took a playful turn; then he paused and added, "Do not worry about Silas, for now. He has been here all day... I think he is napping now." He searched the window panes briefly, and spotted the broad, floppy hat gently, steadily rising and falling with the young man's breath.

Ticklish kisses on her neck prompted giggles. Once Roland relented, Vidya leaned back just far enough that she could watch him talking. The beard was still a new enough development that she was fascinated by it, but between that and the longer hair ? well, he was a knight and no mistake. Her ears almost visibly perked when he mentioned that the ruins were something like Stonehenge ? and further when he spoke of a field expedition. She?d come back to that; his questions turned her thoughts away from ancient history to the much more immediate past.

Uncharacteristically, her expression clouded. He might have asked the question playfully, but it still brought up something she?d been hoping to postpone. ?Lots of mysteries and no answers. You know I was at that cross-realms conference?? Vidya had been finding her way to more political stories since her coverage of the Barony?s treaty-signing. Her last assignment was coverage of an economic conference between two of the realms Nexus-linked to RhyDin and to say it hadn?t ended well would be an understatement.

?The ambassador from New Bombay was found murdered on the last day of the conference, right before they were all about to sign their agreements.? Which would be bad enough by itself, but ? ?He was torn apart in his bed ? it looked like wild animals had done it. And someone helpfully,? the word could have been dipped in acid, ?pointed out that I?m a were.? She shook her head fiercely. ?I didn?t do it, you know I wouldn?t do something like that!?

Yellow-green eyes turned up in appeal to the young knight. ?They?re investigating ? I?m released on my own recognizance for now, but?? she trailed off, sucked in a breath and then continued, ?well. I didn?t scent any other were-animals, there weren?t any of the beast-races and nobody I saw had a pet that could do that much damage.? Her expression grew unhappier. She leaned her head forward against his chest. ?There isn?t anything I can do about it right now. I don?t want to think about it. Tell me more about that field research??

She knew that the subject would only change if he allowed it to ? but just at the moment, she was hoping he would allow it.

Roland's expression clouded too as Vidya explained, fraught with more of the open concern befitting him than the darker calculation characteristic of most of his 'colleagues.' The safety of the innocents around him came first, and her in particular:

"...You know... there is an easier way through this..." His eyes dropped quietly to the Sinaldwin pendant around his neck, then rose to her again. Citizenship. Put national sovereignty between her and any legal threat, and sic the Baron's lawyers on her aggressors. "And I think we both suspect who might be behind all of this..." His thoughts strayed but a moment to Morana, whose continued freedom and survival sharply tested his loyalty to the Baron... until Vidya's wishes prevailed.

"Forgive me," he added quickly and quietly, bowing his head a little. "The field research? It will not be easy; Master Greyshott would prefer to see it with his own eyes, I think, but it is very far in the wilderness, and the Greymark Pack has taken to those paths again. Too dangerous for men to walk as men."

He broke away from her to dispose of the smoldering tobacco in his pipe, take up the fish and turn indoors, casting a smile over his shoulder at her: "But I am guessing... your curiosity will not be satisfied, until we risk it anyway?"

The chortle of Vidya?s laughter came more easily with Roland?s smile. She hopped from the railing and followed on his heels. ?Now I think I might be getting predictable ? or you know me too well.? She side-stepped his solution; it was practical, but somehow sent a sharp twinge of disloyalty through her chest. She hadn?t been back to Boston for far too long, but the New England city was still home. It was reassuring that Roland?s thoughts had pointed toward Morana as the source of her trouble, though ? it made her feel less paranoid. A little growl escaped. ?She-demon.? They?d found it was a literal description.

A sharp shake of her head swung Vee?s ponytail and brought her grin back into position. ?We aren?t men that walk as men, are we? And if we can?t keep the Greymark Pack off of Silas between us?.? Another golden laugh bubbled out before she clapped her hand over her mouth ? trying not to wake the mage in question. She went on a little more quietly, though with the light still in her eyes. ?Just Silas or are others coming along??

Her green Converse barely made a sound over the wooden floor as she skipped past Roland on the way to the kitchen. She started flipping open cupboards ? looking for something edible besides the smoked fish she?d brought up. The murder had troubled her, but Roland?s unquestioning support had eased a lot of her worry and gone a long way toward restoring her appetite.

While she rifled through the cupboards, she shot out more questions as they occurred to her. ?If this site is supposed to be aligned to the stars, is there a particular time you want to be there? Oh! And what about that traveling monk? Are you going to bring along his papers ? it is papers? Or a journal or something?? Her bubbly optimism was coming strongly back to the surface as she thought about the trip.

"One man walking into the wilderness might draw less attention... but there is strength in numbers. If Silas would have it, I would like to send a dozen men, ostensibly to help with the labor, but each of them carrying a rifle. While the two of us keep danger at bay from a distance."

Roland looked in on Silas as they passed the great-room, then followed her into the kitchen, and as he continued he commandeered the task of cooking from her: "I do not think the timing will make a difference, but Silas can tell once we arrive. Holy Adorbec's Exile is on the table near him -- it is a detailed account, annotated by scholars that were very nearly his contemporaries. We have made a few notes of our own, as well, though I have worked mostly on translating other sources... making certain that old Mister Adorbec was a relatively reliable and unbiased source. You should have a look."

Runes featured prominently in many of the passages, often as examples Adorbec was attempting to describe and decided to sketch in his journal. The notes were scattered on the table, but like things appeared to be in a pile: Roland's own, less related work lay in neater stacks across the table.

Just as happy to leave Roland to the cooking, Vidya leaned in to drop a kiss on his cheek ? with a giggle when the short beard tickled her skin ? before she bounced her way on over to the table in question. In consideration for Silas (still sleeping under the shade of his floppy hat) she was quiet while she picked up a stack of notes. She started to flip through the papers, made a face, and then fished out her gold-rimmed glasses from their case. With the glasses perched on her nose and the annotated journal in her hand, she wandered back to the kitchen just as quietly, reading as she went.

Thoughtful now, she traced one of the sketched runes with a fingertip and then tapped it lightly. ?These don?t look familiar at all.? Vee glanced up with one of her too-wide grins. ?I actually do know a lot of runic systems, but those mostly have common roots. Maybe I shouldn?t be surprised.? She was making fun of herself a bit, for her surprise more than anything. Golden laughter warmed the yellow-green of her eyes while she looked back at the pages.

Speaking absently, while she flipped from one page to the next, she said, ?Twelve people and Silas, so thirteen, plus us ? that?s not too many. We should still be able to make good time. It might be worth making sure some of the better shots with the rifles have silver bullets along with the usual ammo, though.? Not that she actually knew what the usual ammo was ? training with Roland had given her some unarmed combat skills, but she was still only barely comfortable with guns or rifles.
Finally Vidya looked up. She watched Roland moving around the kitchen with her happy smile and asked the key question ? ?When do you want to leave??

"Not for a few weeks, at least," Roland answered, shaking his head as he stirred cornbread mix -- another recent development in the Barony. Boxed and canned goods, while very basic, almost old-fashioned in appearance, had begun to supplant many of the even more old-fashioned methods of food preparation. This one had five tiny, mischievous-looking gnomes struggling under a huge basket of corn as its logo. "We need to plan a route, and to arrange for supplies and manpower..." He ticked off these and other tasks on his way back and forth between the pale olive fridge and the kitchen counter.

"S.P.I. produces a very wide range of specialized ammunition with the help of G.A.M.E., and they send the Order a regular supply... I think according to a contract. We can spare enough for a twelve-man team. Pick out a wine or ale," he tacked on, jerking his head towards the corner of the kitchen, which was host to a half dozen casks (only two of them Silver Mark) and maybe fifty bottles. While the cabin was Roland's home, it was certainly capable of hosting the entire Order when they decided to have a retreat.

"Where did you learn so much about runes?"

Unexpectedly, VeeJay blushed. She could feel the heat rushing up her cheeks as she admitted, ?I was in the SCA in college ? the Society for Creative Anachronisms. Where people dressed up and pretended to live in the Middle Ages. Sometimes we pretended to have magic.? It probably sounded frivolous to Roland, who?d spent his teen years in a very different social climate, but suddenly the humor of it struck her. She started to laugh again while she put down the journal. ?And now I?m living in places where magic is real and there?s as much Middle Ages as there is modern tech. I bet Lady Beth would be wicked jealous.?

The smell of the thick ham slices Roland was cooking drove Vidya toward the ales and two glasses from the already-tapped cask of Silver Mark lager. She grinned over her shoulder at Roland while she filled the glasses. ?Anyway, in the SCA I was a scholarly type and I started reading about Dalecarlian runes to stay in character, which took me back to Medieval runes, and that got me into the Futhark variants that came first? so I picked up a couple of classes on historical writing systems.? She shrugged as she turned back around with the lagers.

Vee put the glasses on the counter and then hopped up to sit on one of the clear stretches that Roland didn?t seem to be using. ?Unfortunately, recognizing the writing system isn?t nearly the same as reading the language.? She leaned over to pick up the box of cornbread mix once Roland was done with it, and chuckled when she saw its logo. ?This is cute.? It was a completely unrelated statement, of course. She put down the box and reached for the journal again.

?So what else have you turned up in here??

Roland pinched her bottom as he went by again: "So this is why we started dating, is it. Lady Beth should be very jealous -- you have your very own knight." His smug, teasing grin was audible in every word.

He felt almost bubbly already. She had that effect on him for the usual reasons, but also because it quieted Arctos. Ironically, because she was a were, it made the bear more content with the knight's social standing, and knowing good hunts in good company were in their future actually put him in more of a patient way, instead of provoking anxiety and anticipation. He felt like humming as he worked, and he had just begun to, when a thought occurred to him and he stopped suddenly...

"Silas mentioned something about runes resembling Futhark... or Norras. He might have marked it with the book ribbon." His eyes lingered curiously on the journal, staring over his shoulder at it; a strange ache had been stirred in his heart, and he hadn't any idea why. The manner of his silence stressed its strangeness.

Ribbons bounced in her ponytail when Vee looked up. For all that Roland tended more toward quiet than she, there was a tension in his silence that wasn?t at all usual. She looked at him staring at the journal, and then back down at the book in her hands. As he had mentioned, there was a ribbon marking a place deeper into the book than she?d looked so far. She sought for lightness in her voice while she turned the pages to the ribbon. ?Really? Maybe I?ll actually be useful after all.?

Then it was her turn to fall silent, though without the strange lingering of Roland?s quiet. She was tracing the shape of these sketched runes with a fingertip, mouthing out the sounds of them. As she did, her expression grew more and more puzzled. ?Silas was right ? these look a lot like Younger Futhark. Somewhere between Younger and Medieval Futhark, but not the same as either.? Her Boston accent was coming out more strongly, flattening her vowels as she searched her college memories.
?And the language isn?t right. It?s not Old English, or even Norman ? ? She broke off long enough to explain, ?I can make out a few words of those, even if I can?t really read them.? Vidya?s puzzled look grew deeper and then she shook her head. ?Here, listen. I?ll sound out what?s written, phonetically.?

This time the vowel-flattening was deliberate, bringing out the longer sounds of the runic languages. Along with the flattening came a faint lilt, rhythmic. ?H-ohn Tahd, c?hwi hahg ah zo en Neanev ? uhl leevre zo gahnein. Tahd zo gahnein. On bed, kass kowt dray-maoh, an layz.?**
She pushed her glasses farther up her nose, shook her head again at the pages, and finally looked up at Roland with a quizzical half-smile. ?I have no idea what that means.?

When VeeJay looked back up, Roland had already bowed his head, hands set to the counter, clenching it, and spoke slowly, deliberately in his native variation of Breton -- the way Sir Seamus always uttered the Lord's prayer:

" 'On Tad, choi hag a zo e Nenf, ra vo sant'laet hoc' ano." He was quiet, thoughtful; then he switched the burners off and gently took the book from Vee's hands, cradling them, mouthing the words with difficulty. He had perhaps a poorer understanding of the runes themselves than she, but the Breton...

"...I have seen more common versions of my mother tongues, from other Earths... but this is our Breton." He was awed, his eyes wide and far-away with wonder. "How... God, how did it come here?"

Roland pounded his fist on the counter, but not so swift as to be angry, and his face betrayed none of the usual telltale signs of it, either. "That is Newbreton -- but I only spoke Noubreton French, growing up. This is our, eh... Gaelic, I think you would call it," he added with a glance at her. "There are a number of curious things written in the Teobern archives, and maybe some mysteries we can finally solve. This seems to mean... that New Brittany had contact with other worlds, long ago... or that they Traveled."

There was work to be done. He had spent months, now the better part of a year, in hiding here in Bretland, mastering Arctos away from his friends and countrymen in Teodin? But now it seemed there had once been a path between this land and the one he hailed from, and he had to learn the truth. The half-elf city would hold these secrets, if any place still did: ?Will you go with me to Teobern??

?Of course.? Vee?s answer came instantly, without a pause for thought. As soon as she said the words, she was starting a mental checklist ? everything she would need to arrange or reschedule, pack, and what else they might want to bring. She didn?t have all of Roland?s background knowledge, but she did know about the slow trickle of refugees from Nottingham Court. Even with her limited knowledge, she could see how the possibility of Travel might change everything. ?I want to take a side trip ? back to Boston for a couple of days. There are some books in the University library that I think can help, and a professor?.? She trailed off. She?d always thought Professor Shaughnessy was a little mad, but since beginning her cross-realms travels, well ? she didn?t think him so crazy anymore. ?Do you plan to go straight there? If so I can meet you ? or if not, you could come along and meet Professor Shaughnessy.?

Roland shook his head: ?I would love to, but you must send him my regrets? I must see the Baron, and call a meeting of the Order immediately.? His hand slipped around hers as he looked down, frowning. ?If the path between the worlds remains open, and my world reached this one before? I am thinking, they could do so again. You know we came through a portal into RhyDin, that the Grand Duke built ? but what if RhyDin was not the city that he sought? In my homeworld, there are many hegemons, and each of them very ruthless of late?? His thoughts darkened further at reports of the occupation and division of New Brittany, how food and medical aid were exploited to manipulate loyalty and territory, all due to great powers that had a seemingly inexplicable interest in a ruined city-state, and already a has-been port before the war even started.

But maybe it could be explained? if, somehow, others knew the way?

The young wizard Silas was awake and teleported away with his belongings and a new mission added to his rapidly growing responsibilities; forgoing traditional means of travel, Roland and Vidya plunged into the wilderness as bear and fox, pushing hard to the nearest eastern port. This discovery seemed to make sense of so many strange developments in the broken city of New Brittany; if any of it was true, time was of the essence.



((**?. That?s Breton language, written in Younger Futhark and pronounced closer to the Old Norse/Old English since that?s what Vee is familiar with. If Roland manages to understand what she?s sounding out, it says, ?Our God, who is in Heaven ? a book is with-me. God is with-me. I have been seeking this place, the edge.?))

Roland

Date: 2010-08-22 13:52 EST
It was raining ? one of the cold, drizzly rains that turned everything grey and brought out the smell of wet concrete from the sidewalk. By the time Vidya had set up her trip back to Boston, it was too late for lilacs ? but Roland had decided to come along after all. Now the curls were pulled out of VeeJay?s hair by the rain, and she laughed as she pulled Roland down the street toward the Mugar Memorial Library. They?d gotten onto the T at Harvard Square ? the stop was practically right next to her apartment ? after a change of trains at Park Street, Vee was back in her home territory. 4.4 million people lived in the Greater Boston Area, and she thrived in the crowds and bustle, lit right up. ?C?mon, slowpoke! He?ll be waiting for us ? I didn?t expect that delay at Kenmore.?

Roland had been completely swept away by the city of Boston. The oldness of the buildings, the trains, the busy harbor and the busy streets were so much like New Brittany, and yet so different that his head was always turning to one place or another, frequently missing the sights VeeJay pointed out on their whirlwind tour. Stubbornly he had refused to hack his hair off or clean up his short beard, but he fit in better than he thought he would -- just another young man in what was a college town for many thousands, sporting a messy ponytail and plenty of scruff.

Even tugged over a curb by VeeJay's hands, even in an alien land, the knight was graceful on his feet. "You know we didn't have to stop for sandwiches, Vidya -- they were very good, I'm not complaining, but the line was very long..." He turned his head to squint curiously at her. "Why do so many people here pack into the tiny little sandwich shops? You'd think they'd wait in line for the fancy places..."

Things were different in New Brittany, and often in little ways.

?No, they just call ahead for reservations to the fancy places ? they don?t want to waste time.? Vee laughed, then ? because they?d certainly wasted enough time waiting for the sandwiches. ?Besides, I was hungry. And Darwin?s has the best hoagies in Cambridge.? They were crossing a broad red-brick terrace, and then Vee took the low, broad steps that led down to the Library two at a time. The building fronted Storrow Drive, and right behind that was the broad sweep of the Charles River.

Vidya hadn?t missed Roland?s fascination with the city, and his curiosity about it thrilled her. She knew very well he wouldn?t move to Boston, but she?d missed the city more than she?d realized until she came home. If he liked it here, it would be easier to talk him into coming back here with her when she visited. Of course, if he came back very often at all, he?d have to meet her siblings? which wasn?t something she wanted to think about just now. So she shook her head, and pushed open the door to the library. ?Now, if I were Professor Shaughnessy, where would I be??

If he came back with her very often, he'd have to spend a lot of time ironing out the details with SPI. Earths that didn't know about other dimensions never took kindly to people that "didn't exist"...

Roland found his bearings very quickly: his eyes flickered between signs and the ends of the long bookshelves, and in a short time he figured out where the Frankish epics were most likely to be. "Over there," he pointed.

Earths that didn?t know about other dimensions also never took kindly to the people who believed that those other dimensions did exist. People like Professor Shaughnessy, who was indeed nose-deep in the Frankish epics ? a Gallican text, really, with the original text on one half of a page, and the translation to Old French written on the other half. The professor was old, in his late 60s or early 70s, with soft white curls of hair that hadn?t been cut in far too long. He was mumbling to himself as the pair approached. ?Stupid, stupid. Can?t they read? Plain as day it says it, right here ? a visitor not from this land, a holy knight. Not from this land. Idiots.?

Vee had been able to hear the mumbles from the end of the stack, and she giggled when she got just a little closer. ?Still ranting and raving, Professor?? She never had believed him, before, but her teasing was always good-natured and her interest in his lore had kept the unlikely pair friends long after she graduated.

Sir Roland Gravois heard the professor's words clearly; Malcolm would have frozen in something like terror and Seamus would have happily seized the opportunity to blow his mind, but Roland was Roland, and so he bowed his head humbly and politely and let the others speak, not opening his mouth until he was introduced.

His hand hovered near his hip during his little bow, where the hilt of his sword would have been -- or where it actually was, somehow hiding beyond sight and detection. The knight was stoic, but nonthreatening, though inwardly his heart sang at imagining Vidya happy in college under this batty old man's tutelage.

?Vidya!? The professor was one of the very, very few who called Vee by her given name. He snapped closed the book in his hand and turned with a smile to face the younger pair. The sharpness of his bright blue eyes gave lie to the uncut hair, mumbling, and worn elbows of his jacket. ?And this must be the young man you wanted me to have a talk with. Tell me, young man, do you believe in fairies??

That was exactly the sort of question that normally evoked wariness in people meeting Professor Shaughnessy the first time. Vee?s laugh bubbled out again, one she couldn?t have suppressed if she?d tried. ?Professor Shaughnessy, I?d like you to meet my Roland. He?s very interested in Frankish and Breton travel history. Roland Gravois, this is Professor Michael Shaughnessy; he?s just about the best professor I ever had.? She left it up to Roland to answer the fairy question, though.

"Your servant, Professor Shaughnessy," Roland replied with a smile as he extended his hand for a shake, "and... I would have to say that I do, though I have not met very many." It was one of the few social tricks he had picked up from spying, pairing a smile with an uncomfortable truth to make people take it for a lie.

One thing he had not learned as well was hiding every detail on his person. An encircled cross rested not quite out of sight on his collarbone, its symbols glittering under the library's lights, though small and obscured enough to do little more than hint at their nature.

If VeeJay had known how Roland intended to make his effort at deception, she would have warned him against it. As it was, she clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle another burst of laughter, and whirled to face away from the pair while she regained her bearings. Her eyes were shining bright yellow-gold with mirth over the seal of her palm.

?Hah! Smart boy. They aren?t what most people think, you know.? Professor Shaughnessy snorted while he slipped the book in his hand back onto the shelf. ?This Saint Christophe, for example, he was one. A visitor. They?re scattered here and there throughout history. Saints, devils, holy men, fairies. Europe seems to have attracted most of them ? or kept better records, anyway. Your Bretons? Littered with the travelers.? And then the old man?s eyes narrowed, locked on the glitter and flash at Roland?s neck. A finger twisted by arthritis jabbed out at the symbol. ?Where did you get that?? He asked it accusingly.

Roland first gave a significant, questioning look to Vidya, and to the professor it likely spoke volumes. Should I tell him?

Michael Shaughnessy?s expression didn?t change, but that questioning look from Roland to Vidya filled him with a sudden measure of glee ? and trepidation. Too many people had mocked his belief in the travelers; he didn?t think Vidya would do something like that, but he?d been fooled before. But if it was what he was beginning to suspect?

Meanwhile, VeeJay had managed to subdue her laughter enough to answer Roland with a wordless shrug. If you didn?t want to tell him, we shouldn?t have come. Might as well.

Rather than explain in words, Roland unclasped the necklace carefully, reverently, and handed it to Shaughnessy. The symbols were not the same as the original Order's, but they were similar. Only the Egyptian eye was completely new. "Sir Roland Gravois," he whispered as he bowed his head and introduced himself anew, "Knight-Captain of the Holy Order of Saint Aldwin, and your humble servant. I... am a traveler, as you would call it."

Age-spotted hands took the necklace as carefully, as reverently as it had been passed over. He was already mumbling to himself. ?Yes, yes, the bear, the fist ? could have gotten those from Bede, though ?? And then the professor broke off to look sharply at Roland. ?Saint Aldwin was never associated with the Eye of Osiris.? It was almost accusing, but there was no less care when he offered back the necklace. Light danced in his eyes, as he hovered on the edge of believing this solemn young man.

"The mark of the spy agency of my liege, who has renewed the Barony of Sainte-Ouen as St. Aldwin in another world," he explained simply, accepting the necklace and replacing it. He looked down at the symbols, touching them with his thumb, and looked back up at the professor, and then he repeated his introduction -- each word in the French variety of Newbreton, a linguistic mish-mash that only occasioned its way into the rarest, most obscure documents -- the variety most academics laughed at and tossed aside.

It was a mish-mash that left Vidya completely in the dust - but she smiled her too-wide smile as the fluid introduction set Professor Shaughnessy to dancing. Literally - he actually jigged a few small steps in the aisle, practically cackling to himself. Then he regained his dignity, put a hand over his heart, and gave Roland a small bow. When the professor replied it wasn't as fluent as the knight's introduction, and sounded as if he were more familiar with reading the words than speaking them. But it was unquestionably in the same dialect, a short phrase. "I am honored to meet you," perhaps.

"The honor is mine," Roland replied with a slow smile, reverting back to English, "and since you are a good man and a friend of Vidya, I will spare you any more of what I call French."

His eyes were alight from seeing the Professor jig -- in ways both large and small, Roland had become a knight to see others happy. Even confirming this energetic old man's academic suspicions filled him with joy, and it showed in his face. He looked over at Vidya and winked.

Her laughter bubbled out at the wink, and not even the sudden of the appearance of the head librarian at the end of the aisle giving them stern looks could quell her delight. She did try to muffle the chortles, though her next words were quietly unrepentant. ?That?s French the way I?m human.? Another giggle slipped out, and she shook her head with a swing of black curls. ?Sorry, sorry. Professor, we really do need to ask you about Breton travel history ? only it?s, well, Travel history, you see??

The academician?s eyes sharpened again, and he let out a satisfied breath of air. ?Ah. So that?s why you came to me.? It could have held resentment, but instead Michael Shaughnessy seemed quietly happy that someone came to him for his knowledge instead of with suspicion and mockery. ?Well then, what do you need to know??

"In reading Saint Christophe, any of the other Travelers, have you..." Roland frowned and paused; his eyes went to one corner, then the other, and he listened. They had in fact been making a great deal of noise for a library, which was the perfect cover for a spy, thief or assassin to creep closer. The tension relaxed, slowly, and he began again. "Have you found any stories of what happened to a disappeared Breton knight and nobleman, Baron Charles DeMuer... or have you ever heard the name, Teobern?"

Vee had shut her eyes when Roland tensed ? her eyesight wasn?t nearly as good as her hearing, so she concentrated on listening. But the sounds from the rest of the library were reassuring ? quiet breathing and the flip of pages from two aisles over, the reference librarian assisting a customer at the desk on the second floor. The Mugar Library was really only very crowded near finals; right now it was practically deserted. Reassured, she opened her eyes again and looked back and forth between the Professor and her knight.

Meanwhile, Professor Shaughnessy was muttering to himself again ? a habit that came of too much time alone. ?DeMuer, DeMuer, no? too many disappeared noblemen. But Teobern, where was that name? What was I??? While his words escaped, tinged with his native Irish accent in his excitement, his gnarled fingers were skimming over the edges of several books. Abruptly, they stopped on one and he pulled it out. ?It?s a place name, yes??

"A city of part-elves," Roland muttered with a faint nod, "and it still stands to this day..."

?No, no, no? it was destroyed, oh, hundreds of years ago, in an earthquake?? The Professor answered absently with a wave of one hand before he went back to flipping through pages. Abruptly he looked up, however, and speared Roland with a sharp look. ?Wasn?t it??

"I took VeeJay to a ballet there last week," Roland replied, dipping his head a little. Then he leaned in to peer at the pages as they turned, curious about the story behind the disaster. "Earthquake, you say..."

The title of the book was one that belonged to the ?fringes? of accepted serious historical inquiry. ?Disasters of the Middle Ages: The Hand of God At Work?. Published sometime in the 1950s by the look of the cover, the works it referenced were much older. The professor tapped one print of a faded painting on a church wall. In the elongated, stiff style of the early 900s, it clearly showed a small village built on cliffs near the ocean. The next scene in the painting showed humans dancing with ? well, with their pointed ears and tilted eyes, the high cheekbones ? they could only be elves; a priest seemed to be railing against the festival off to one side. And the last scene in the trio showed the cliff breaking off into the sea, with small bodies tumbling down into the water.

"Teobern." After a moment, once he was sure Roland had seen all three panels clearly, he turned the page. This was a black-and-white photograph of cliffs over the ocean, overgrown foundations broken off right up to the edge of the cliff. Beneath it, the caption read, "Reputed site of Teobern, 1925."

The last photograph was on the facing page; it had been taken from a narrow gravel beach below the cliffs, looking up. From this angle, several of the foundation walls actually overhung the edge. Halfway up the cliff, shadows outlined the edges of a cave system. This caption read, "Caves beneath Teobern, 1925."

Roland frowned at the caves and shook his head. "No, no," he breathed. "There are no caves there, only a pile of..." He trailed off and looked up at the ceiling. "...Vidya... I do not think the Travelers arrived in Bretland."

Professor Shaughnessy looked back and forth between Roland and Vidya. Obviously the sequence meant more to the knight than it had to the scholar. VeeJay frowned, her brows drawing together. "What do you mean?"

Roland put his index finger on the picture of the caves. "They came through here. It all makes sense now..." And the young knight began producing documents, a few outlines he had written on a typewriter himself, and spread them out around the book.

"The Travelers spoke Newbreton, yet it is not clear, not exactly, where they arrived. What is known is that they arrived in this world... consorted with the locals... and came under the suspicions of the priests in their company." Rapidly he flipped back to the earthquake sequence, the dancing elves and men, the disapproving priest, the earthquake. "There was a disaster -- the great leader 'Carolus' perished -- but with the aid of God, they saved the city. And..." Roland's fingertips traced a sequence of runes they had translated. "...'the way home is lost'."

"Oh... oh!" Vidya breathed it the first time, exclaimed it the second. "I see. But then -" She frowned, thinking over what she knew about the story, and the locations involved. "What about those caves in the city?" Pulling out her glasses, she shoved them onto her nose and bent over the book. The professor was reaching for the typewritten notes, eager to learn more about the "Travelers".

Roland passed them over. "Collapsing the caves would explain the earthquake... and there could have been more than one incident. Seven centuries ago was the first time Teobern's numbers and power sharply declined, Silas was telling me... Eighty years ago was the last time. When we arrived, only a few hundred part-elves sought shelter in Teobern any longer."

Mumbling unintelligibly to himself, the Professor started reading, practically devouring the notes and outlines. Vee nodded while Roland spoke. ?So this world was a waypoint? And when the caves came down?? She trailed off, and looked at the last picture thoughtfully. ?But they?re not all collapsed. Maybe there?s still a way? or another way through??

A stranger's smell wafted in, but Roland was not used enough to Arctos' skill to notice it, not before Vidya.

"We should return to Teobern immediately," Roland said. "The Baron must be -- " He froze, then, as a floorboard behind a bookshelf creaked.

Before Roland had stopped speaking, Vee had already jerked up her head, her nostrils flaring. She?d heard the quiet steps and breathing earlier, but paid them no mind until the front door opening carried a swirl of air past the woman and toward their tight huddle. Her lips pulled back from her teeth, but it was no smile that twisted her mouth:

?Demon.?

Roland

Date: 2010-09-11 12:07 EST
Click-click-click. High heels tapped on the polished wood floor, moving toward the end of the bookshelf. The scent of demon was apparently musk, lilacs, and a very, very faint hint of copper. With VeeJay?s curt word, Morana had abandoned her attempt at silence ? and discretion. Fingers of her left hand were twisting, but her right hand still held the book she?d been studying. ?Collected Legends of Northern Italy.?

The world was suddenly thrown into a different, harsher kind of relief for Roland -- colors muted, only objects of interest bolded. He saw both motion and the threat of motion. Arctos' gifts were perfect for a hunter and a fighter.

"Vidya... the professor must leave now," the knight said, fingers flexing at his hip where a sword had just flickered into being. His feet ground into the floor as he was prepared to parry and strike. "I will see you both soon." Roland was perhaps not capable of hatred, but whatever passion his gaze harbored, it was equal to Morana's challenge. He did not fear her, and would fight any devil to see his charge protected.

The professor, still deep in the typewritten notes, took a moment to surface. He was obviously confused as he looked from Vidya?s suddenly feral countenance to Roland?s preparations to the attractive Persian woman at the end of the aisle. ?What? What?s going on?? Were-creatures were known in his world, even given legal rights, but demons were still a myth. The greatest trick the devil ever played on humanity?.

?Oh, darling, don?t run off so soon. I?ve missed speaking with a colleague, and your Professor seems simply charming.? Her eyes were dark brown, her cheekbones high and her focus went right past the knight as if he weren?t holding a sword at the ready in her path. Her smile was warm and delighted on VeeJay and Professor Shaughnessy. ?I?d love to speak with you both.? The word ?speak? was timed to match a flick of her fingers toward the two; soundless void sliced down the aisle with a promise of pain.

Leaving Roland to intercept the attack, Vee dropped the book she was holding and grabbed Professor Shaughnessy?s left arm. ?We?re leaving ? now.? If she could have picked up the old man and carried him without notice, she would have. As it was, they were moving faster than Michael Shaughnessy had managed in nearly fifty years. The papers were still clutched in the Professor?s fist as they hurried for the library door.

Roland's sword did not merely intercept the attack -- he had learned a few new tricks since the Order's last combat with demons, and the attack whiplashed its way past Morana into the wall behind her. His aim was off, but it was still close, and Roland did not stand and wait for the result, either. He closed the distance at a sprint, throwing his shoulder towards her as he jabbed his sword at her gut. A loud snarl erupted from him as he attacked.

Morana?s laugh was a throaty counterpoint to the ripping snarl. She had to drop the book in her hand to dodge the sword-strike, but the shoulder she moved into ? pressing fluidly up against the knight, moving like water. Skin-to-skin contact was her goal, and the play of black-edged red in her eyes flashed when she heard the library door slam closed. The scent of ozone filled the air as sparks from the ceiling flashed ? cameras shorting out.

Something crackled and sizzled over his left hand and he jerked it away with another growl. He nearly tripped over the book, backed up close to a tall shelf, and stared hard at the laughing woman. She was right to be so confident, as the knight's tricks were still few compared to hers. "You are expanding your horizons, demon... I thought Christian people were beneath you," he said as he collected the book on North Italy with one hand, then took another step back. His shoulder hit the shelf, and he could back away no further.

"Darling, everyone falls - and it's always delightful when a Christian realizes he's damned. But then again, do animals even have souls?" Morana glanced at the book in his hand, and then back up to his face with a brilliant smile. "You are just deliciously sweet, though. Such a strong moral compass. Where would your Baron be without you, do you think?" One step toward him, two, deliberate and measured. The next sounds from her throat were in no human language, guttaral and harsh.

One step, two... wait for it... her words had begun, which gave him just a little bit longer...

"You won't find out today." Roland slipped suddenly around the shelf's corner, and at the same moment, the towering bookcase came crashing down on top of Morana, dumping thousands of volumes with it.

Thousands of volumes that battered ? and then fell unobstructed to the floor. Those caught in the path of her sudden Step were sliced- oddly, through the covers, half-books and pages fluttering free before the heavy bookcase landed with a shattering crash. The few other patrons of the library jolted to their feet ? silence suddenly broken with an explosion of babbles and fear.

Outside, in one of the odd corners left by the building?s designers, black-edged red flashed, vanished. Scraps of paper and leather fluttered to the ground, leaving frost on the paving stones that melted nearly as soon as it appeared. Morana?s sculpted features were contorted with rage, the guttural words she?d begun fading to a hiss. A deep breath before her expression smoothed to contemplation. ?Well. Wasn?t that interesting??