Mists of Areinor, the first storm

(with invaluable help from Crystal)

Gitana stepped down the stairs, crossed the square and thought:
"They aressted him for nothing. They laughed... They'll pay!"
What little circus dancer can do in such case? "I can do nothing." Gitana decided. She felt lost and walked by the street in melancholy. "But I must do something!" Girl's hope on king's justice was fading. But hope will never gone. Gitana kept on searching the way to do things rignt.
"He is innosent. But he's in jail. Order is corrupted. They do nothing for justice. Robbery? Bribbery? Seduction? What can I do?" Gitana did'n see where she's going. What buildings and places - this ones or others - it didn't matter for her. In the circus no one could help. They all were weak.
She wasn't rich for bribery, she wasn't strong for robbery, she wasn't so easy for seduction. She was child in this world.
"But can I go and see for what is the indictment? Why not" she decided and went to search for judge.

Ganlen woke up with awful head ache. The pain was coming and pulsing from nape over temple. It let him know that yesterday in the tavern “Drunk boar” Ganlen should have gone home after fifth tankard of hot ale, but not up on the table trying to recite a famous Shanukseepr’s poem.That innocent prank cost him a hit with fist on the back of his head. His servant got involved in the scuffle and the offender was disgraced, but Ganlen’s recollections lasted only till that moment. He gets drunk a lot now and his good cheerful temper has gone leaving space for resentment and anger.”Why? Why?” he used to ask his servant Lofan – “Why the King couldn’t solve this deal? I had been serving him well for so many years until this milksop, hell with him, tripped me up and I had to leave the Court of His Majesty, burning with anger…The King maybe thought I was burning with shame…But I can understand why Kessertin has made it. He needs the King’s treasury for his own dirty deeds.” Lofan patiently listened to repeating tirades, bowed, and seldom inserted “U-hu” and “Mmmmm-m”. He knew his master for many years and got used to his tricks. Lofan shared Ganlen’s views, but he didn’t share his master’s desire to talk about it three times a day like a prayer before meal.
Today master was in bad mood. He almost fell from stairs coming down in the dining room. “He sure has a headache.” - Thinks Lofan mixing a potion that is popular among town’s brave drinkers who do not fear to buy it in witch’s house. Lofan does not fear. Master came down, flopped down in the sofa, took green gurgling and foaming potion and tossed off the goblet. Then turned blue, green and slowly started becoming normal. Then burst out with complaints about new life…It is luck nobody hears him. Nowadays it is dangerous. You can be easily imprisoned.
After modest breakfast they dressed and walked to the streets. The cobblestone road led to the castle to the right and to the main square to the left. Old mansion they left behind.
“It seems that today got to be a long walk, Lofan”
“Yes Sir”
They turned left and walked a little in silence.
“They will pay!” Sound of voice with anger came from the corner.
Ganlen and Lofan slowly came to the corner and looked who cried. She was little slim girl from the circus. Her show with that big butcher-like man was amazing last time they attended them. Maybe only this two were good enough to make people come to the circus. She was almost crying.
“Hey girl! What has happened to you? Who has offended you?” Ganlen asked.

Сообщение отредактировал Корей - 16-01-2007, 19:16

NOON

Before the palace

Leir sighed with relief when two other guards appeared round the corner of Rosa. It meant that it was time for Leir and one of his companions to shift their duties on others and go get some long-expected sleep.
“Anything new?” asked James Nill who was to take Leir’s place.
“Nothing good. First, some stranger – awful early! Handed a message for the Councilor. Then some lazy servants chatting with a girl just before our eyes, escaping their duties. How bold! I’m gonna report to the chef-cook ‘bout his irresponsible subordinates. Well, the guys will tell ye what they remembered when they were awake,” Leir smiled slyly and cast an eye on the two guilty ones. They blushed.


In the kitchen

Clim thought he was about to go mad with all the worries and irritation he had to experience that morning. But by half past one the cooks calmed down, even stout Marta, whose voice overrode all other sounds when she finally got her hands on Ron. The poor scullion had done all that his little forces allowed, but the fact was that he was late. That reason was enough to rebuke the little boy as if he had overturned a boiling can. Ron’s face and ears were as red as his hair, but he held back the sobs and got down to work, preparing meat for cooking.
By the appointed time the snacks, soups and stews were ready except one grand dish, which could be served a bit later. The kitchen soon grew empty as scullions and servants loaded themselves with plates and pots, and headed to the reception hall. The chef approached the last meal in preparation, smelled it, smiled with satisfaction – as he always did when his works of art succeeded – and went to the next room. He then returned carrying a small vial* with exquisite spices which Lord Kessertin had given to him. According to His Honor’s words, the powder was brought from a distant land during his last journey there, the one he had made together with His Majesty. Clim had tasted the spices himself and liked the aroma. Now he was going to arrange a special meal for the do Rei family.
The chef sprinkled the almost-ready dish with the vial’s contents and sighed – all of what he had went to flavour this one portion. With pity Clim threw the empty bottle to the dustbin.


In the reception hall

The table in the form of a horseshoe was covered with a snow-white cloth embroidered in green and gold, its ends and sides falling freely and hiding all that was or could be under the table. The square hall was decorated with green leaves and red flowers, sparkling with water drops on their petals. The sun rays lighted the hall so eagerly that no candles were needed, and the grand golden chandelier under the ceiling remained unlit.
Numerous servants were stalking to and fro between the chairs, placing on the table various dishes with appetizing smell. Most guests were present too, some measuring the parquet floor in expectation of the inviting bell, some were already seated and engrossed in small talk with others from the cream of the society.
The bell rang finally, and all gazes glued to the opening doors.
“His Majesty King of Areinor Robert do Rei and Her Majesty Queen of Areinor Klarissa do Rei!” announced the guard by the door. Everyone rose and bowed as the royal couple approached the table where it bent in the centre and sat down, the Queen to the right of the King. The first lady in light-green garments seemed weary, her face still pale after a half-sleepless night and worries about her son. Robert was dressed in dark-brown suit with a cloak over it. His look was dull, as if laziness and boredom were consuming the man. Bracing himself, he collected his thoughts for a speech and appeared a bit more strong and firm for some time.
“We regret to say that His Highness Prince John will not attend the midsummer feast. He does not feel all well and the healer advised him to stay in his rooms today. Nevertheless, Prince John sends you his blessings, which I hope you will gratefully accept together with ours. Hail the gods on the midsummer day!”
The guests applauded, calling out to the King rather that anyone or anything else, and started taking their seats. Only two remained empty – one by His Majesty, with a rich cloak on the armchair’s back instead of Prince John himself, and the other next to it, reserved for the lagging Lord Kessertin. All present rose goblets for the royal family’s health and set about tasting the first course.


Somewhere in the city. Almir

Just as the Rosa got down to the magnificent meal, an ordinary inn-keeper greeted a strange guest at his threshold. The man wore a large hat and a dark cloak covered with dust, but a glimpse at the inner clothes under it made the host change his attitude – made of fine black wool with a silvery sign at the chest, they implied its wearer was of great importance. Only rich and mighty lords could dare put on garments like that.
“Stewed meat and rice,” the stranger spoke quietly and calmly, but there was something bewitching in his voice and unfamiliar accent, tying up the listener’s will. “And good wine, too. Here’s the silver. Move fast.”
The black customer then left a sterling on the bar, walked off to a table at the farther wall and settled himself on the chair, wide brims of the hat covering his eyes.


--
* vial – бутылочка, пузырек

In cooperation with Daelinn.

Some minutes passed since William had left. John was still sitting in the armchair looking out of the window. His headache got srtonger and his mood got worse. After quarter of hour he thought that Luana could hurry up a little bit.
At last he heard a soft rustle of a long skirt and hushed voices. Then a knock came on the door.
"Your Highness? The healer is here."
"Come in, please", answered Prince.
The door opened and William stepped aside, letting in young Luana. She looked well and beautiful this morning, quite unlike the exhausted poor woman she seemed last night. The healer rushed to John and bent before him, observing his face intently.
"How are you, my Prince?"
"You see, Luana, worse than usually, but, I think, better than during the previous night", he forced a smile.
She placed a hand on his forehead, stared in his eyes and stepped back, shaking her head.
"Here, you can take what little is left of the fusion," with a sigh, Lune approached the carved mahogany table by the other window and took an inch-full glass with a greeny substance. "William, could you please bring some boiled water?"
The servant nodded and left the room.
"Thank you for your treatment, Luana", said John. "Is there any news in Rosa? Has the midsummer feast already started?"
"News? Oh, not many," the young woman put the glass back and sat in an armchair by the Prince awaiting the servant's return. "The feast should commence pretty soon, at least the meals are ready. I've been to the kitchen this morning - oh, what a fuss! Cries, noise, rattle... One of those guys who bring meat - yes, hunters - was late, so the cooks blew the poor youngster up. Awful! How can one be so cruel?" Lune levelled her gaze at John, looking indignant and puzzled.
"Yeah, you're right, sometimes people are very cruel. But I can explain behaviour. Actually, having a talk with cooks' chief is not the best way of spending time", he smiled. "And how did that guy explain his being late?" Prince wasn't very much interested in arguements between the servants, but chatting with Luana was better thinking about Sir Kessertin's affairs.
Lune obviously shared his opinion on the chef, whose talent in cookery was compensated by rough manners.
"He said he didn't know he was to come so early, because he had never done. But he came as soon as Ron led him there. Ron is some younger scullion, I believe. But that old dame, Marta, interrupted him saying that the night before all servants had been warned 'bout that, so he must have received the message. He retorted he hadn't. Well, that's a bit strange. Perhaps he wasn't at home..."
"I see... Sometimes I think that people who can leave their place any time they like should be very happy", Prince sighed and after a pause continued: "I hope, that guy has no seriuos problems because of this case?"
"Dunno," Luana shrugged her shoulders. "He ran away to escape further scolding."
"Never mind, Luana, it doesn't matter." Someone knocked at the door and William's voice informed young prince and Lune, that the servant had already completed his job. "Come in", said John. His footman came in with a jug of water and a glass on a tray. He put it on the table and asked if he could do anything else.
"Thank you, I need nothing more. You can go unless His Highness requires some help." The healer reached for the jug and poured hot water into the empty glass, then added the fusion, careful not to rouse the dark sediment. She stirred the mixture up and handed to the Prince.
"Drink it, Sir, and then I suggest you lie down," Lune looked worried, some tension appeared on her face. "Oh, I do hope it helps..."
"You may be free, William." John took the glass, looked at it, than drank awful bitter mixture. "Sure, Luana, I'll follow your advice", he reached his bed and lied down. Actually, he'd rather go somewhere instead of lying here sleepless, but he got used to following Lune's recommendations, even if he didn't like them.
Lune sat by John's side for some time till he dozed off, and after that gathered the empty glasses and headed to the kitchen, biting her lips at the thought that there was no more drug left.

Castle's dungeon

Lord Kerran was sitting alongside the bench on which lay what was still, technically, the trembling body of Bren Loustin, formerly king’s secretary.
‘What were their names?’ he repeated.
“…don’t know…”
“I know you gave them copies of king’s correspondence, Bren. They are treacherous plotters. Will you join them?
“…don’t know names…”
“I trusted you, Bren, king trusted you. You spied on me. You betrayed the Kingdom.
Kerran signed. And them he saw one oа Bren’s fingers curling and uncurling under the manacles. Beckoning.
“Yes?”
He learned all over the body.
Bren opened his one remaining eye.
“…truth…”
“Yes?”
“…your times had expiring…”
Kerran sat back, his expressions unchanged. His expressions seldom changed unless he wanted it to. The executor watched him in terror.
“I see,” said lord. He stood up, and nodded at the executor.
“How long he has been down here?”
“T-two days, milord”
“And you can keep him alive for--”
“Perhaps two days more, lord.”
“Do so. Do so. It is after all,” said Kerran, “our duty to preserve life as long as possible for all citizens. Is it not?”
The executor gave him nervous smile of one in presence of a superior whose merest word could see him manacled on a bench.
“Er…yes, lord.”
“Plot and lies everywhere,” Kerran sighed. “And now I shall have to find another secretary. It is too vexing.”
“Lord Kerran!” servant-messenger was out of breath, “Feast is already started!”
“Feast? Oh, yes,” Kerran corrugates, “I coming…”

In the reception hall

“Your Majesty, your Majesty, I’m so sorry that I am late, but business of your state protract me.”
“Oh… it’s okey, lord Kerran” babbled king, “we appreciate you.”
“I am just your servant, your Majesty” smiled Kerran.
“Let the feast continue!” proclaimed queen.
“And now, very specific meal for king!” chef was twinkled with joy.
Kerran smiled, and unnoticed turn one of his rings.
King and his queen tasted new meal smiling to everyone. Minutes later they started descending under the table.
“GUARDS!!!” Kerran cried, it was the first time when he cried on public, “Seize that cook!”

Featuring Don Alesandro

July 14th, year 361
12:30

The reception hall

The guard was roused, guests – however respectable they were – jumped up from dark wooden arm-chairs and began running around in panic, mostly in the direction of the exit from the hall. No one came to help or to show interest in King Robert’s and his wife’s sad fate – or rather was not allowed to.
Two minutes later, not without the guardians’ shouts and pushes, the reception hall was cleared. Servants, by the Councellor’s order, were led away by Leir, who mumbled quietly under his breath and grieved over the damned restless day. Some tried to protest, but His Honor Kessertin was persuasive enough to prove his decision right – “no help is needed”. So, when the accused chef-cook was seized and brought to the crime scene, only Lord Keran, six guardsmen and Their Majesties’ cooling bodies met him.
“What’s the matter?” Clim kept repeating. “I did everything as you had said, milord, and tasted each dish… And all, milord, you see, all ate and…”
“Silence!” Keran’s voice was quiet, but cut sharp like hardened steel. “You’ll pay for the death of our High and Respected Ruler and the First Lady. You are plotter, and you will give up all of your accessories. This time tomorrow you will be answering to the court jury for what you’ve done, but before this, lord-prosecutor will talk with you. Guards. Take him away to cells. And search the kitchen and servants’ rooms for poison!”
The poor man’s back disappeared behind the magnificent doors, and all was quiet again.


Prince John’s room

Luana reached the empty kitchen – surely, all had been prepared for the feast and some went to rest, others - to serve at the meal. Finding nobody to talk to, she put down the glasses with some drops of the su’uhr potion left and went back, to be near her most important patient. The young woman climbed the stairs to the second floor where the Prince’s chambers were and walked into the bedroom. The boy was lying motionless, seemingly asleep. Very carefully, Lune moved a chair closer to the window and made herself comfortable in it, her dark-haired head resting on the knees.

“Oh, my… Oh, my!”
Vague lamentations rang across the passage as two women in white aprons hurried along. “Where might she be?”
Wails and sobs approached, then the steps stopped and a light knock on the door rose Luana from the chair where she had fallen asleep.
“Please do not worry, Your Highness, stay in bed” she said to John who moved and made a vain effort to get up.
“Who’s there, what happened?” the healer whispered.
“Oh, Lune, come quick, there’s a disaster!” a faltering voice answered from the other side.
“Jill, you?” Luana called.
The door opened, showing red faces of Jill and Kail, usual waitresses at royal meals and feasts. The healer drew back in inexplicable terror. Everything had been going bad since last night. Illnesses, night walks, lack of medicine… What’s next?
“His Majesty,” Jill sobbed, “His Majesty’s dead! Poisoned!”
Kail nodded, then shook her head in disbelief.
“And Her Majesty, too! But this cannot be, oh, just cannot!” she uttered. “Why? They are good, and great, and strong…”
“Were,” Jill put in her decisive word. “I saw closely…”
“No!” Kail objected. “Please, Lune, come see what you can do!”
Luana realized she was standing with her mouth and eyes wide open, unable to say a word.


The witch’s hut

The table was lain, candles lit, and another chair found in the shed* nearby – Seril used only one even when rare guests came. She always sat on her small bed then, leaving the more conforming seat to others. Just as she did now. The brown gown was tucked up to let the wearer cross her legs upon the silvery-coloured blankets. The lunch was alright to her, but obviously not enough for the man who had settled at the table with hunger-blazing eyes. Boiled white rice and cabbage disappeared from his plate in a split second while Seril apparently enjoyed each spoonful of vegetables. Herbal infusion instead of wide-spread tea did not please the guest either.
Though seemingly concentrated on the meal, the enchantress watched Eugene intently, dropping a question or two from time to time. He was a rare person not to crouch and tremble under her gaze, and therefore all the more interesting. But Seril kept her emotions in check for another reason as well. This morning, she’d come across disquieting pictures from weeds memory, drawn by her mystic force from a tuft** of grass-blades. The woman was an inch from getting involved into a dark state affair. She wasn’t going to do anything, however. It turned out, thus, that she would be helping the royal family by medicine, and at the same time helping their enemies by silence and inactivity, but such neutrality had saved the lady's life a number of times. "It's their business, not mine."


Not far from the palace

Gitana turned briskly, hearing the stranger's words. She felt eager to give away all she thought of the men who took Vigo and of the one whom they served, but at the last moment considered it wiser to keep her tongue in check.
"No one did any harm to me personally, but my friend, he... But who are you, milord?"
The man looked respectable. Perhaps, it was a happy chance she was not to miss. Hope shone in the dancer's eyes as she forced a smile on her tear-stained*** face.


---
* shed - сарай
** tuft - пучок
*** tear-stained - заплаканный

The witch’s hut

The meal was nourishing and tasty. Well, at the very least it was so for the hostess, who was clearly enjoying each piece of cabbage. As for Eugene, starving as he was, the mercenary wolfed down his portion almost in no time. Seril tried to ask several questions, but that was of no avail: with his mouth stuffed with food, her guest – or pupil? or hireling? – was unable to utter anything distinct. Finishing off the last pinch of rice, Greenstone met a slightly astonished gaze and smiled back somewhat confusedly.
- Well, I’m not usually that hungry, milady, even taking into account my… hmmm… personal peculiarities. It’s just a long march through the whole night.
Anyway, man-at-arms was still somewhat hungry; besides, the meal definitely lacked meat. Greenstone reached his backpack, rummaged in it for awhile and produced a chunk of dried meat accompanied by a load of somewhat stale bread. That should do… Another fifteen minutes later Eugene leaned on the back of the chair contentedly, with a jug of some herbal remedy in his hand. The infusion had a somewhat bitter taste, but not too bad all in all. Now he was ready to speak, answer and, if asked, show.

Prince John's room

For nearly a moment after hearing the news prince John stayed in his bad unable to understand Jill's and Kail's words. But when His Highness realized what they had just said, he jumped out of his bad, dashed to the door and pushed Luana away from it. His weakness had completely disappeared.
"WHAT?!" uttered he a frenzy scream. "What did you say?!"
One of the waitresses broke into sobs. Prince changed his countenance.
"N-no", whispered he shaking his had. "It can't be... How?.." Prince couldn't believe the news... It seemed to be a trick, but who could joke about such a serious subject? It couldn't be... Never! But... John turned his pale face to Luana.
"Why are you standing here?!" Shouted he at the healer. "Go there, maybe you can help them!"
Suddenly prince realized what would happen, if she couldn't. His legs sank under him, so that he had to sit down on the floor. He look at Luana with his glistening eyes.
"Please..." added John silently. Tears were streaming down his face. .

Сообщение отредактировал Олорин - 12-04-2007, 20:33

Palace.

"Your Honor!"
"Yes?"
"We've searched the kitchen," the guard bowed before Lord Kessertin and held out a pocket with a small bottle in it. "Sergeant Paul found this in a dustbin. It seems that the same spice covered His Majesty's last dish."
"And also, milord… in one of glasses our forensic doctor detected traces of a prohibited herb fusion, made of su'uhr," the guardian stood straight, ready to fulfil any new command.
“How interesting… - wisped Kessertin – the plot is everywhere!”

Dungeons of palace.

In dark bad-lighted chamber cook was chained to the rack.
Lord-prosecutor sited on the chair behind the rack* and executor stayed near him, squeezing pliers in mighty hands.
“So, why do you hamper the progress of justice?”
“I don’t do that!!!”
“Lie…”
Executor raised the pliers.
Cock screamed.
“Who is the head of plot?”
“Where are no any…”
“Lie…”
Scream.
“Tell me their names.”
“Don’t…”
Scream.
“Who…"
"I don’t…"
Scream.
“Enough” the voice of his Honor lord of Keran was quiet, as usually, but cold as glacier, everyone in the cell heard him.
“Lord Keran, the subject hampered… he lies that he doesn’t know anything!
“Maybe it is true.”
“Sorry, Your Lordship?”
“Maybe he was just a puppet in talletned hands…
“Oh…” prosecutor noded assent.
“Who gives you this bottle?” Kessertin took out a small bottle. “Maybe our dear doctor?”
“Erh… I… Yes! It was she!!!”
“You see my dear lord,” Keran smiled “It was just a question of questions.”
Prosecutor smiled.
“And who bring the game-bird to the royal dish?”
“L… Litar! Yes! He was… today in the kitchen! Yes!
“Lord Kessertin it is a real plot!”
“Oh yes…” Kesertin noded to the executor “Throw he into dungeon, he avow that he knew a lot of suspicious characters! Do you agree, lord-prosecutor.”
There are no any question intonation in this phrase.
“Er… Yes! Absolutelly, your grace!”
“And outlaw this new plotters, find them! One hundred gold coins to conscious person who know where are their!


When executor, happy cook and prosecutor went out, Kessertin has stood a little, then approached to rack, dipped a finger in a smudge of blood and in pair movements drawn a intricate figure, after that he applied one of his rings to the center of figure:
“Ash arat nazgaa!”
Almir, at that very moment finishing his second glass of wine, raised his head, listening intently to something beyond other people's hearing.
"Almir... do hear me?" in dark dungeon whispering of lord Kessertin was sinking in deep silence.
"Yess," the answer came.
"Here, in palace we finished first part of our plan, now your turn, do not dissapoint us."
"I see, milord. I'll proceed right now," the phantom voice faded away, the magic link between two minds broke.


*rack – дыба.

(with Daelinn)

Сообщение отредактировал дон Алесандро - 1-05-2007, 21:09

(with Parkan)
The witch's hut

Great strength, good appetite, bad self-control. Those were the three things Seril understood about her guest who was likely to become a freeloader* if she didn't find him some occupation in the city. Obviously some mercenary or hired labour. Or perhaps he could be of some help to herself?
"I heard, werewolves are supernatural creatures by birth. Are you any good at mysticism?" she bent her head sideways. Eugene propped his chin with his fist, pondering the question.
“I was trained in sword and shield, not book and potion, I’m afraid”, he said at last. The wise woman was obviously disappointed, and Greenstone was firm in keeping her from losing interest. This was a question of survival for him, no less – without Seril’s aid his rage would sooner or later get him into trouble he would not be able to escape or outrun.
“But there are some tricks in my sleeve, which I have hard time to explain.”
"I didn't expect any academic knowledge from you, guest. But what you are telling me now is the magic you possibly don't understand, but possess anyway," Seril nodded approvingly. "So, what is it?"
The mercenary reached for his backpack and fished out a small canteen**. He definitely needed a gulp of whiskey to vocalize feelings and emotions invoked by his bestial nature.
“Well, to begin with, I can affect the animals. Usually they feel uneasy around me, but... Tamed or domestic ones become friendly, if I wish so, while critters of the wild shy away... mostly. This must be somehow connected with my scent – they all sniff the air intently."
Another gulp of whiskey. Fiery liquid burned its way down the throat.
"Then, believe it or not, there is a sense of truth. More often than not I can tell whether the person is lying by just having a short glance at him speaking. But sometimes this sense fails – mostly when the speaker is good at hiding his emotions."

--
* freeloader - приживала, нахлебник
** canteen - солдатская фляга (объемом 3-4 пинты)

(guest starring Daelinn)

The woman did not move. All ears, she was just looking at Greenstone, greenish flashes danced in her eyes in time with the trembling light of candles. There was a pause. Then at last she spoke.
"Well, sounds like an acute insight awakes in you, but there is no way to control it. As for the animals – intuition is part of their nature, thanks to which they live. As well as some smaller part of yours."
"Perhaps", Eugene shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, these are not too hard or dangerous to test. But there is one more thing, one much greater."
Greenstone paused again, running his fingers through his short hair, obviously lacking the right words to describe this "one much greater". Finally he spoke again:
"Did you see a mirror in your childhood, Seril? Did you ever dream of getting behind the glass or polished metal surface, into the hidden and strange realm of reflections? I did."
The mercenary winced, as if remembering some long past pain.
"And once my dreams came true. I... fell? slipped? squeezed through?.. well, found myself on the other side. Strange place it was. Is. Hard to describe... Another world, the land of spirits of all kinds of things. Just knew it when saw those mists, those starless skies with huge moon. Yes, the land of spirits."
The mercenary sighed deeply.
"I like to go there once in a while, though. Mirrors are a rare commodity, but any reflecting surface will do, even water. Sometimes it is harder to make it through... hm... "the border", sometimes easier – usually in places like that pond where we met this morning."
Seril looked surprised. More than anyone had ever seen her to be.

Thanks to Олорин, who helped me to write this

"Stand right there. I have to search your wagons. "
"Cant you just let me in? You know me since I was born, Kerwin."
"Aye, Diego, but I have orders, you know. "
"Right, orders. Go ahead, lets just finish it, I am not intended to waste whole day chanting with you."
"So do you have something illegal?"
"Your mom, idiot. Only soap, clothes, parfume - as usual!"
Half an hour later.
"Hm, you know, just a personal opinion…"
"Priest will hear your confess. Let me pass! "
"Fine! Soldiers, open the gates."

Areinor. Yet an another big hole devouring money, efforts and eventualy lives. Don’t be a fool and just pass away, it won’t give you anything in return. That’s probably the reason for Diego to use any fair opportunity to run away from here. Ofcouse the fair opportunity implies some certain profit. Gold.
Unfortunately no matter how the gold leads, Diego always returns back. To his home.

He followed the main road straight to artisan quarters. Sun was slowly staggering through the cloudless sky. The day hasn’t even started yet, but heat was already torturing Diego. Though sun dispersed usual crowds, blocking the road, so the merchant was in the good mood, from time to time lazily lashing horses and whistling some unpretentious tune.
Finaly he reached the huge block of warehouses. The aura of stinch surrounding could knock a horse off its feet but Diego was used it since very childhood.
"Maaartiiin! Come out, ye rat!"
A minute after a small, round person with shining bold spot came out.
"Sweet Jesus! Diego, yer back!"
"Aye, Martin."
Keeper of storages cunningly squinted.
"I bet ye have something fer me, aye?" he asked.
"Definetely so, you realy thought I missed your mug so much to throw away all my plans," genialy chuckled Diego, "and run to see you?"
"Hehheh, ye bastard ain’t changed at all. "
"Why should I?.. but lets get straight to business. Can I use your storages? I have to run few meetings before selling all these stuff and I don’t want to bounce around with two wagons at my side. "
"Oy, ofcouzze, ye know the price, don’t ye?"
"Yea, just keep your dirty hands off my goodies and I’ll pay you."

For a while Diego was mindlessly wondering through city streets, enjoying the nostalgia feeling. He was away for a year but nothing really changed. He even could swear that cats and dogs rushing around were simply the same.
Eventually he fond himself standing right before the door of the antiquary. His old – from very childhood – good friend Edwin was in running it. Good business, aye.
"Why not?.. In fact, he is nearly the only person I was missing all the time," Diego mumbled to himself. He opened the door and freezed at the threshhold. Edwin was standing at the post, just as usual.
"Dear friend! Long time no see!"
"Diego? Hello, I’am glad to see you!.. But it seemed to me, you were not in Areinor, weren’t you?"
Diego stepped in, reached the post and shaked Edwin’s hand.
"You’r right, I was away for some stuff trip," he continued with dull voice " you know, soaps, pencils, clothes… Not a very big fish, though suits me for now. But how does your business run?"
"My business? Well, pretty good. You see, my good are quite popular among local nobles. Less useful than your soap maybe, but I don't regret" - Edwin smiled.
"Yea, the day will come and my soap will save the world!" Diego let out a heartly chuckle "well, dont you mind leaving your shore for a hour?.. In fact I feel such a thirst - I could drink a river!"
"Great idea! But... O, wait for a moment, please" - Edwin called his servant and told him to stay in the shop in order to take the money from lord Kessertin, which was intended to bring them soon. Than Clanter returned to his friend and they left the antiquary.
They wasted some time trying to find a decent hole to drop an anchor and finaly ended under the board labeled “Headless chicken”. All hesitations were thrown away and friends finaly entered it.
“Headless chicken” turned out to be a quite clean for a usual type of inns spot, weitress with a cute face were boucning around with mugs and plates. Nearly all tables were occupied, but Edwin managed to notice a free place in the very corner.
"Hey, bartender! Give us something o drink, fast!" cryed out Diego, "It burns like in Hell outside... God forgive me my blasphemy."
After a short while mugs appeared on the table.
"So I bet lot of things has happened around while away." after a long sip, asked Diego, "care to tell?.."
"Well, when something happens it seems important, but then it looks like just a routine," Edwin started "so, nothing changed seriously... If you are interested in affairs of Rosa, I can tell you than Their Majesties are still allright, Prince John's nearly OK. They say, that the Royal healer is a brilliant doctor... Lord Kessertin is still King's Counsellour. By the way, I had a very profitable though a bit mysterious deal with His Lordship," Clanter retold to his friend the morning's events.
"You always were a lucky bastard, you know," an empty mug was thrown away "As I see its just olde Areinor, same as always... you know, sometimes I simply think that I should settle down, find a wife, make a family" Diego yawned dreamily "heh, what about you? Found a hot lassie, no?"
"You always ask the same question. But nothing..."
"Hey, guys!" A not sober stranger without any request took a place at their table. "I heard, you were discussing court affairs? Then you should be interested in the fact that the King was..." he made a dramatic pause and whispered loudly "Poisoned! Yes-yes, I know it exactly! My nephew is a friend of a guy whose brother workes at the palace, so you can believe me. Could you byu me a glass of wine?"
Edwin looked at him in amazement.
"Poisoned?.. How can ever be possible?.. Wait…" Diego waved at bartender "hey, somebody, bring some ale for my buddy!
A minute later, when a weitress brought another portion of ale, Diego continued:
"So, what were you talking about, friend?.. poisoned?"
"Yes, naturally poisoned!" he drank some ale taking pleasure in his interlocutors' attention. "There was a real plot! And the leader of it is Prince, yeah... He ordered Luana, the Royal Healer, to make a poison. And the chef gave it to Their Majesties. They say, that lord Kessertin is going to hang everybody who is suspected. He is looking for conspirators. Many of them are outside the Rosa Palace. Even some foreighners... " he was ready to accuse everyone.
"Santa Maria! I hope that wont hurt my business here... What a shame! The very King was nearly killed in his own apartament! That country rolls straight into Hell! Сhop off my arm, that's an omen of the storm! Somebody's fancy the crown!"
In some minutes the tragedy in Rosa became the main subject of all discussions. First, nobody believed the news, but then another "witness" arrived and everybody started shouting, crying, creating different versions. So, when Edwin heard the story again, he was told that it was Prince, who was killed and that the King was only injured, but alive. What kind of injury could get a man who was poisoned remained a secret. In fourty minutes Clanter was already tired of this buffoonery, so he sujested Diego to leave the tavern.
Half-drunk, friends stalked around for a while, exchanging with stories of the past, trying to rebuild images of their childhood. Time was swooping away.

Сообщение отредактировал НекроПехота - 5-05-2007, 23:24

The Rosa
13:00

"I... I'll see..." that was all Luana could say. The healer rushed forward, ran across the door case, gasped, rubbed the hurt forehead, and finally found her way out of the Prince's chamber. Tears were close to start streaming down her cheeks, but she struggled to remain serene. For two long minutes she climbed the stairs leading to the central reception hall in the midst of Rosa. At the very top she almost knocked down one of two guards, who were taking down a body wrapped in black cloth. Lune understood it was too late. The healer faced the most awful of her nightmares - when you are near and can't help...
Another guardian standing in the doorway turned briskly and eyed the lady from head to foot.
"Sorry, I thought I could..." Luana mumbled something in excuse of her appearing there.
"Ah, YOU! His Honour would very much like to speak to ye," said the soldier in a lifeless voice.
"Sure..." Lune turned back to leave the place.
"Where are you going, Miss Britt? Ah, right, find His Lordship yourself before his wrath finds ye!" he continued bitterly following her to the next stair landing.
Luana took to her heels*. Down the stairs, back to where she had been a couple of minutes ago. To Prince John's rooms. Vexed and terrified, the healer brattled along the second floor corridor and burst into the chamber without any knocking. Only then she realised such behaviour was not agreeable.
"Oh, sorry, I'm so sorry... Er... How are you, Your Highness?" Lune breathed out, gasping for air.

--
* бросилась бежать

(alongside with Daelinn)

The witch's hut
Meanwhile

The woman hemmed and leaned forward, catching her guest's eye. For a long minute she was watching him, trying to decide whether Eugene had really seen the spirit world he was speaking about or that was just a freak of imagination or rather a vivid dream.
"Ah... Ah well," Seril let down her legs and slid from the bed to the wooden floor. Straightened her gown, looked around, paused, reflecting on something, and then sat back, wishing to ask one more question.
"When you go there, do you get into a totally different place, the like of which you cannot find out there?"
"Hmmm... It is hard to say for sure. Depends on time and place. It is always night time there, as I've said, the sky is always dark despite the time of the day, with the Moon shining but no stars present. The Moon is of the same phase as it is on this side, by the way."
The mercenary leaned on the back of the chair, sipping whiskey slowly, his gaze was wistful.
"The landscape does not change there, and all the landmarks like rivers, ponds or cliffs are on their proper places. But man-made things may change drastically - misshaped, misplaced or just plain not there at all. Living things do not appear in spirit world, except for plants. But sometimes they too cast strange reflections in this sunless realm: I once saw a thick forest in place of a wheat field."
The woman's lips moved silently, a sign of disappointment (or relief?) was in her gaze. She stood up again and left the room for a while without saying a single word.
Eugene raised his brows, somewhat appalled by this reaction. Such a drastic change of Seril's mood was completely unexpected. He sighed, corked the canteen and sat straight, propping his chin with both hands. Half a minute later a jingling sound reached his ears. It continued, as the woman went on moving pots, glasses, vials and other ware in search of something buried behind all that stuff. Eventually, she returned carrying on her palm a silver-sputtered piece of glass, partially mounted.

(featuring Parkan)

Greenstone looked at the glass shard in wise woman's hands with interest, then caught Seril's gaze.
"Nice mirror you have... Want me to show my reflection trick?"
"Not that I'm much interested in your fancy, but what can you see through this?" she held out the olden mirror before the guest, waiting.
"Aww... am I that bad in explaining?" frowned Eugene as he rose on his feet and approached his hostess. "The whole thing is not about looking... alright, just wait and you'll see."
The hapless shapeshifter reached for the mirror and touched the cool glass, concentrating. A short breath, as if preparing to dive, and - splash! The familiar coldness surrounded Eugene, as he pushed through, being perfectly still - yet lurching sideways. The border between mortal world and the realm beyond met him with the familiar webby resistance.
"But what you are doing is exactly lo..." Seril's voice faded away as Greenstone, with some effort, finally squeezed through the strands. The mercenary's shape suddenly lost colours and solidity as if dissolving into thin air. The ghostly image lingered for a while until it vanished completely.
The mirror, which the woman had been holding in her hand a second before, rattled down on the wooden flooring. The room was empty - just as she had left it that morning. No one around. No movement in the next room. No sound heard from outside either. The encounter by the forest pond might have been a mare's-nest but for the stuff that was left lying by the table. A backpack, a pretty worn round shield, a long sword in a leatherclad scabbard, and a helmet on top of this pile. A flask – at the lady's best guess – of some strong drink abandoned near an empty plate.
"Good Mother, how..." Seril sank to the floor, her stiff green gaze set upon the vicious union of steel and glass, by chance unbroken.

(together with Daelinn)

The Rosa
13:10

"Is it true, Luana?" asked quietly Prince, when the healer entered the room. He was seating on his bed, looking at one point on the wall, with a set expression on his face.
The healer stood still, breathing hard, trying to find words of consolation and... excuse.
"Sorry..." she murmured. "I'm so sorry for your... His Majesty..."
"They say, His Honour wishes to speak to me, but I am not to blame, no, I'm not!" the lady cried out, approaching the poor sick guy, her hands clasped at her chest in a pleading gesture.
"Em..." Prince seemed to be amazed. "Are you suspected of this?.. Why?!"
Lune sighed with relief. At least one man didn't consider her a naughty criminal for high treason.
"They... the guardians looked at me so strange, they must know something..." she stopped short, realizing how the words sounded.
"Er, they must have their own reasons to believe it was me," Lune continued. She hardly understood what nonsense she was talking. Nobody had accused the healer yet, not even by a word or an insinuation...
"And... Don't you think, that you are worriing for just no reason? Anyway, I believe that you're absolutely innocent. I'll try to talk to lord Keran about this affairs, I'll try to help you, if there is some danger... If only I can", John realized that it was a very difficult task to do anything against Keran's will, but maybe... Anyway he was a Prince.
"Thanks, milord... Your Highness!" Luana didn't believe her luck. "But where... can I... how shall I live till then?" she was asking herself rather than the noble young man before her. The worm of doubt lifted up its head once again.
Prince shook his shoulders. He didn't know what to do and what to advise to the healer but he really didn't want her to suffer from Keran for this terrible crime.
"Well... In my opinion, you should try not to meet lord Kessertin and his people untill I speak to him and tell you the results of our conversation. Maybe you'd better leave Rosa... But, on the other hand, that can improve suspicions. So this is an extreme measure... You mustn't use it untill you're sure that you're endangered. Are you?"
"I don't know," babbled once brilliant royal healer, now crushed by suspicion and dislike of some of the great ones of this world. Luana levelled her gaze, looking at the Prince in sudden amazement. He's lost his parents, but now tries to comfort her instead of racking his brains over his own sad fate. And yet, it was right. To think of others' problems, rather than cry over yours... "But yes, these are wise words, Your Highness. I shall return to my usual quiet life, although with no more people gathering in the central square in the evenings... But, oh, how do you feel? I mean, do you need medicine, or help? Wait! I'll fetch some sedative herbs to soothe your pain..." the young lady's face was pale.
"Thank, that isn't necessary. I feel pretty good, better than usually. I'm even sure that I'll be able to survive till evening without your invaluable help". Prince John tried to smile. "I think, you can leave me and try to solve your own problems. Anyway, I have to talk to His Lordship. He might come here soon."
"I see," Lune dropped a quick curtsey. "I will disturb Your Highness no more." Two seconds later she was gone.

Somewhere in the city
13:25

The meal tasted ash. The wine was sour. This godforsaken land was growing hateful to the old man. Although the stranger who named himself Almir looked handsome enough, he was already quite advanced in years. His acute eyes were often clouded by weariness, movements became slower, but those signs of weakness he concealed skilfully under his large black cloak.

Veon rose from the bench, leaving a sterling at the table, and headed to the streets. The heat was rising - the hottest time of day was drawing near. A quick gaze around from under the hat's brims - the man spotted someone who could serve him for the deal he charged with. Almir called up a boy, who had been wandering near aimlessly, and leaned over him, whispering.
"D'u wanna some money for little trinkets?"
The small guy pricked up his ears.
"See this scroll? Before the nightfall it must be handed to Sir Ganlen. Poor lad, he was a courtier once, but now lives by himself, all alone, near the Rosa palace. Here's a sterling, Ganlen'll probably give you some more."
The lad nodded so violently that it seemed his head would come off.
"Sure, milord, quickest possible, milord!"
"If he doesn't receive it, I'll be sure to getcha and explain to you how impolite it is to deceive elders." Almir smiled with only angles of his mouth. His voice was entirely devoid of expression, but the promise itself sounded ominous. The man looked mysterious enough to make anyone believe in his words.
"Ye.. yesss..." the boy was already not so sure whether he really wanted the money to risk his health, but the consent had been given with no way recede.
Almir placed the scroll and a silver coin in hands of the newly engaged messenger and walked away. Soon his cloak disappeared round the corner.

The Rosa
13:30

Lune shut the door behind her and leaned against it, looking around with a hunted gaze and unable to make a step forward. Although the conversation with John made her see some light after all, she felt needless and very lonely within these stone walls, that had no resemblance to the flower which name they bore. There, all around the Rosa and much further, in the town itself - nowhere could she feel safe. But good heavens, was it not her mere imagination and overexcitement? Perhaps it just seems to be so bad, while nobody actually accuses the royal healer of the crime committed?
“Find her! Catch her!” – Guardsmen rumbled by corridors. – “Stop by the name of the Law!”
The young lady gasped, clenched her little fists and for a long second couldn't make up her mind where to rush. The voices seemed to be coming from everywhere. But soon the loud jingle of the guards' armour set the direction for her - to the left, then straight ahead past the library, and down the stairs, down, down, down... Then ahead again, towards the kitchen and numerous servants rooms.
“Good day, our dear healer” – lord Kessertin appeared behind Luana’s back from nothing – “Do you hurry to somewhere? Maybe you will promenade with me?”
The voice of lord of Keran was calm but strong, his hand squeeze Luana’s elbow as a grip.
Lune froze in place. His Honour's presence, usually somewhat annoying and unpleasant, now felt unclean and deadly.
"Ww... Why... I m-mean, s-s-sure, milord..." the healer went pale, but resolution shined in her eyes. In an unconceivable effort, she twitched her hand out of the Councillor's clutch and dashed off nearly screaming in terror.
“How irresponsible”- lord shirked.
Kessertin descended to the garter-knee and raised right hand with massive bracelet. Something clicked. Running Luana fell flat on her back.

(and Daelinn)

The witch's hut

Diving into the mirror, Eugene was a bit afraid of what he could find in the Spirit world. The last thing he would like to find was a sickly rotten cell in place of the house. Thankfully, it was not so - even in this realm the dwelling was tidy, cared for and actually seemed to be rather cosy. A small smile crept on the mercenary's face - he strongly disliked the idea of getting mixed up with a witch (true one of the worst kind). Letting a sigh of relief, he decided to go outside and have a look around.
Actually, it was the first time Eugene went through the mirror so close to a town. Usually he chose secluded spots away from people to avoid unwanted attention. Now he found out it was a wise notion - the town represented itself as a solid mass of buildings, huddled tightly, muffled in thick strands of dirty webbing. A huge sickly-green cloud hovered above the town sending semitransparent tendrils of mist down to the streets. Something was not right there... definitely. The werewolf winced and shook his head. He circled the house hurriedly and, after another long stare at the menacing cloud above the unsuspecting town, went inside and closed the door behind him. It was time to return, the hostess could have already become worried with his absence. He stepped to the centre of the room and concentrated again, trying to feel the familiar tug beyond. It felt as if the warrior was going back to the surface after a long dive...

Eugene returned unexpectedly and instantly - ten beats of heart ago there was no sign of Greenstone, then the air became blurred, as if heated by some unseen bonfire, then - snap! - and there he was, staying in the centre of the room, as if he had never left it.

The witch's hut

"No, I'm not insane," Seril tried to convince herself. The words worked, but not so good as she desired it. "I must have underestimated the guy. That's real charms, aren't they? So he knows the Craft. But nothing of the Lore. Poor man."
Seril was gradually regaining her spirits in spite of the fact that time passed and Eugene didn't return. That was a good time to think of how to treat this "disaster". The lady got up, walked to the next room to place the mirror back on the narrow shelf, and went on to establish order in her abode. Dark hair curled flippantly round her head, but the green gaze was beyond a joke. Teach the guy good manners? How, Mother? But there's a deal, and she won't go back on her word.

If you don't know something, ask. If there is no one out there to answer, find. If one doesn't want to tell, earn his trust. If the price is too much, bargain. If the fee is doubtful still, stop and think. Never run a worthless risk.
And Seril was not going to. The guest was a wild creature to be tamed, albeit by his own wish. The woman remembered quite well what happened the previous time she engaged with non-humans. Not the way it is rumoured, but the way she could see, and hear, and feel herself... How many deaths will the world suffer this time?