Emirikol Part III scene 3

[subplotkudzu]

Our four noble heroes, along with their two new friends Florian and Donato de la Ballesteros, made their way from the bower of blades northward, heading for the borderland between Seri and Scornbul - the shaow area between the two quarters where the constructions felt close but had not yet merged into the mazes of the docks. There the sextet shared dinner at a lovely restaurant, enjoying the spiced fish and pasta dishes common to the north while they discussed recent events. Donato reassured Hiram that Raul would likely make no more than one attempt to settle affairs with the young actor, applying another insult or finding some pretense for another encounter - not to worry, he had never known his cousin to deny the presence of a healer at such an duel. Hiram was little reassured. Donato informed Melas, however, that Victor would likely hate him to the grave. Melas shrugged at this, taking it as being an expected thing of no consequence.

At Cybele's request Florian outlined what he did on a day to day basis: he, Raul and Dontao were all part of the larger de la Ballesteros family, and when his and Raul's father died Raul would inherit. Therefore Florian occupied himself as latter sons did - having let his elder cousin Donato make the decision to join the priesthood he prepared himself, albeit with little interest, for the army. Someday. If nothing else, he prepared his blade for combat. Glancing over Florian's features the lady Floriane could see the similarities between the brothers, save with Raul being dark everywhere that his sibling was fair.

At Florian's return request for information on how this quartet began traveling together, Hiram took up the bulk of the conversation, reciting a masterful blank verse oration of their adventures to date, beginning with Hightower Tor and opening with the 11th form's classic line "it was a dark and stormy night." (Dave: 20! I dazzle them! Me: you were probably composing it in your head for days. Dave: well, sure, but much of it is extemporaneous.) The cousins are indeed awestruck at the recitation and the adventures it contained, but early on our friends caught the two sharing glances, as if communicating some private joke or plan. Since there seemed no animosity in the men they trusted that they would be made aware of the humor in due course. And, with the last of the wine finished the cousins suggested with broad grins that the group head further into the warrens to see what was playing at the Dock and Boards - one of the small local theatres. All save Melas agreed - the hunchback claimed fatigue and graciously retired for the evening (Since Jim couldn't make the session).

As the group wound further into the heart of the chaotic city they witnessed scenes that would be unthinkable in the more staid and civilized north: the sheer press of humanity, the children running accompanied through the streets in the evening, the taverns that were little more than bars open to the street, the scrum of sailors who were on land for just the night and no doubt intended to spend all of it drinking, carousing with those of loose virtue or both, all walking side by side with respectably dressed merchants and tradesmen of all races and milling around the movement of goods from one warehouse, ship or business establishment to another all in a time after dark when to the south only the night servants would be about on the streets quietly preparing businesses for the next day. It was both exhilarating and terrifying in its spectacle, but our group was never threatened, as only the foolish would approach such people of obviously noble bearing - and sporting such obviously well honed blades - with course intentions (Tom: no, they'll lure us further in where they can ambush us at their leisure).

Snagging the attention of one of the local youths Florian ascertains that the Dock and Boards had not changed shows and that there was another production due to start in an hour. Smiling broadly the fair haired gentleman led his companions into a busy tavern that catered to both the adventurous noble and the recently paid sailor alike. Obviously regular customers, he and Donato had no problem securing space at the bar for the four and drinks were ordered to while away the time until the show. While Donato and Dietrich discussed matters of religion and politics, Cybele and Hiram scanned the crowd to take in such a diverse group of humanity, both of them had their eyes alight on a figure at one of the far tables: wearing the navy blue cloak of the Water Church with a hood pulled up in an effort to obscure his features, the figure had obviously not reckoned on the light from the tables candle, which quite undid the effect, clearly marking his blond hair, half-elven brow, piercing eyes and once broken nose. The figure was in earnest conversation with a handful of rough looking sailors, obviously trying to convince them of the validity of some endeavor. Glancing back a few moments later they saw the man had unfolded a map onto the table, trying ad failing to obscure it from any who might glance over. Cybele nudged Florian, who uttered a simple 'what is he doing here?" before changing the conversation back to the subtle grace of Cybele's wrists, which he had already witnessed first had this evening but would not, as a gentleman, allow himself to more closely observe without permission. Under this onslaught Cybele found she had quite lost the thread of her questioning.

Hiram, experienced as he was in the theater, saw something quite different (Dave: 20! Again!). No one could be as inept at subtlety as this fellow appeared, and the nature of his placement in the room, the careful pitching of his stage whisper to carry just far enough without being obvious, the eye catching gesture of unfolding and re-folding the map, all bespoke of a trained stage professional. Whoever this fellow was, he was going to great lengths to be noticed as someone who wanted not to be noticed. (Tom: I wonder what ally they're going to drag that idiot's body out of tomorrow? Dave: I think it might be the other way around… Tom: well someone's getting set up, I'm just glad it's not us). He carefully avoided being entangled in this matter any further, not mentioning his observations to his friends even as they left the bar and approached the Dock and Boards - Hiram's first exposure to Emirkolian Theater. Looking like one of a thousand similar Peoples Playhouses across the republic, the marquis revealed the cousins' joke: "Pedro and Pierre Loot Hightower Tor"!

To be continued