CarlysleCoupFindingTheCardinalLytham set a brisk pace toward the chapel and tried to look as if he belonged here, but at the same time he murmured to Edgar, "What do you think we should tell them to get them to let us in? 'Oswain sent us' might get us through the gate, but if they're twitchy already..." He sounded doubtful. Edgar shrugged. "You're from around here, not me." Then he brightened. "What about my cousin's wife sent us? She's someone important... Ofelia Acciaio." "That's right -- she's Acting Chief Justice while Lord Acciaio's on a repairing lease," remembered Lytham, who had not been hanging around Josh Salter for nothing. There was considerable confusion in the chapel -- with one group huddled in the cloisters around a priest lying on the ground, and a second, large group, in considerable agitation, in the chapel beyond. Two priests, braver than the rest, came forward to challenge Lytham and Edgar. "Who are you?" one demanded. "What would you have here?" "The Acting Chief Justice sent us to check on the Cardinal's safety," Lytham answered glibly. "This is Lady Ofelia's cousin by marriage, Edgar Bahlmis. Lord Talaren came with us too," he added, "but he's checking the streets outside right now." Edgar nodded and smiled, what he hoped was a friendly smile. "There has been some trouble in the city. I see that some of it appears to have spread here. Is that man going to be all right? What's happened here?" "The Cardinal's dead!" said the first priest. "An assassin crept in -- while we were hearing Prime!" "And he killed poor Father Robert as he made his escape," added the second. "He was ninety years old, and blind -- but the assassin struck him down!" Edgar blanched, as he looked back from where he had come, then turning to face the two priests he asked, "How long ago did this happen? What did the assassin look like? Did anyone see him?" "One of the novices saw him," said the first priest, while the second wrung his hands. He said ... well, a man quite ten feet tall and ferocious as a wild beast. When we strip that away we seem to have a young-ish man of military bearing, dressed in priest's robes." Lytham's eyes narrowed. It was just that sort of discrepancy he had been looking for when scrutinizing Brother Oswain... "Brother Oswain?" he asked mildly, leaving it entirely ambiguous as to whether he meant the over-imaginative novice or not. "Who?" said the first priest. "No brothers here -- we're all Fathers -- apart from the novices. And we have no Oswain, either." "I don't think there's as Oswain at the seminary in training, either," added the anxious second. "It's a name you'd remember." "There was an Oswain," said the first. "But he died twenty odd years ago -- he and the Father were boys together." Damn! thought Lytham. He's good! Despite his close scrutiny of the young man in priest's robes, he'd detected no trace of the deception. "I'll certainly remember it," he said, scowling. His face, too, he thought. "He's probably made good his escape by now, but you might send someone to check the stables." The first priest hastily beckoned a novice, who hurried off. Edgar turned to Lytham. "Maybe I should go tell 'Uncle' Talaren what's happened here?" "I think it'd be a better idea to wait till he comes looking for us," Lytham replied grimly. "One, we don't know where he is, two, he's still on horseback, and three, there's an assassin on the loose who doesn't seem too picky about who he sticks a knife into. You know, I'm thinking less and less of these insurgents every minute. Middle-aged ladies... elderly blind priests... oh yeah, I really want these folks running my life, for sure," he ended, with heavy sarcasm. "Anyway," he went on, squaring his shoulders, "we probably should ask to see the Cardinal. Just to make sure." The Cardinal, when they saw him, was quite dead -- killed by a wicked crossbow bolt -- the type that could only be utilised by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Well, this was a day for firsts, Edgar thought, as he stared down at the dead body of the Cardinal. He felt the bile rising in his throat. He'd never seen so many dead bodies -- in fact, before this evening, he hadn't ever seen a dead body. But he certainly looked dead to him. Lytham didn't have vast experience with violent death either -- most of the corpses he'd seen had been at funerals -- but growing up in the outlands, he'd always been aware of the reality. He was more concerned to confirm the identity of the victim, which unfortunately seemed all too clear. The dead man in his celebrant's robes definitely fitted Talaren's description of Micahle Fiore. "There'll be hell to pay for this," he muttered under his breath. Edgar saw the brothers within hearing distance cross themselves at Lytham's statement as they murmured something in that ancient church language. "Well, at least we know that these insurgents are willing to risk eternal damnation in their grab for power," Edgar commented. "Which, I bet, makes them off-worlders." Lytham flicked an eyebrow in his direction. "You think? Not all native Aquilans are religious either... but you may be right. An Aquilan might or might not believe in eternal damnation, but he should be able to guess the effect of a planet-wide Interdict on the man in the street." He shook his head. "Not good at all." The priests seemed to be ready to move the bodies to a place suitable for their holding, and were looking a little askance at the civilians. A senior man came up to them, his grey hair neatly cropped, his lined face austere. "Might I ask what you are doing here in this time of calamity?" he asked. "I am Father Robert Rostay, Prior of this House." Lytham politely removed the Badlander hat that still shaded his face. "We came on behalf of the Acting Chief Justice, Father," he told the Prior respectfully, "with Lord Talaren Bahlmis. He's hunting through the streets at the moment, but I imagine he'll be back here shortly. This is his cousin, Edgar Bahlmis; I'm David Lytham. I'm only sorry we didn't make it here in time to prevent these deaths, as we'd hoped." The Prior looked stunned. "You knew of this in advance?" he demanded. "Not soon enough," Lytham said regretfully. "We learned of the danger -- I'd say within the past hour--" He glanced over at Edgar for confirmation. "--and came as quickly as we could, but..." Edgar nodded in agreement. "There has been an insurgency -- or ex-surgency, since it appears that the forces have come from offworld -- but the House Carlysle appear to be involved in a coup attempt, and it was feared they might come for the Cardinal. It appears the fear was justified. I am very sorry." The Prior swayed as he stood -- he was not a young man. "But this is terrible, terrible," he said. "Who else has been affected?" "An assassin was sent after Lord Decuma Maun," answered Lytham, "but he was foiled and captured. It was from him that we learned that the Cardinal was a target." He avoided mentioning just how they'd learned that. "And Lady Tremontaine was shot. The last I heard, she was being taken to the hospital, so..." He turned a hand palm up. Edgar looked around, hoping to see Talaren coming in. They needed to get this news back to... whomever needed to know, the Lady Ofelia or someone. He felt a queasiness in the pit of his stomach. This research project was becoming much too personal, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to stick around on a planet which was about to undergo a massive government upheaval. Though, his would be a completely unique paper -- he'd have the academicians clamoring for him to be a guest lecturer. He shook his head to dismiss such daydreams. This was no place for that -- people were dying here. There was no sign of Talaren -- it seemed that they were on their own. And, as he and Lytham had claimed a position of authority, the anxious clergy were now looking to them for guidance. Lytham was also thinking that they ought to carry the news back to the Grand Hotel, but not before Talaren showed up. Not to mention that "Brother Oswain" had more than likely absconded with their horses, damn him! Stalling for time more than anything else, he asked, "Who came with the Cardinal? From offworld, I mean. We should probably talk to them as well." "Deacon O'Byrne," said the Prior, distressed. "And he left only three days ago on a tour of the Badlands parishes with Monsignor Thomas Shubert." "The Badlands?" Lytham frowned. "Let's hope they didn't run into any trouble out there." Or make it, he added to himself. Edgar sighed, "Then there really isn't much else we can do here, then is there? Perhaps we had better go wait by the gate for 'Uncle' Talaren and inform him of the regrettable turn of events." "How about some other of his entourage?" Lytham pursued. "He can't have come to Aquila with just the one Deacon, can he? A Cardinal, after all -- and a Papal Legate, to boot." Prior Robert shook his head. "The Cardinal sent them back to Nova Roma -- with his interim findings. He said ... he felt at home here." The priests seemed extremely worried by this turn of events. They seemed to see Edgar and Lytham as their protectors in case of danger, and were most anxious that they should not leave. There was still no sign of Talaren. God, thought Lytham, with more reverence than was usual for him, due to the circumstances, I hope he hasn't got himself skewered. Aloud he said, "I really don't think any of the rest of you are in danger. I expect the Cardinal was the target, and the poor old priest just got in the way. But if you're nervous... In a place like this, everyone is known, right? Check the man to the right of you, and to the left of you. If you don't know him, and no one else can vouch for him, chuck him out." There was noise and some confusion as the priests began to do exactly that... It could be a good time to make a discreet exit. Not that Lytham was exactly eager to brave the streets again, under the circumstances. He supposed it was their duty to bring the news of the Cardinal's assassination to Lord Tremontaine and Lady Ofelia ... but the thought of what the latter's reaction might be when they further told her that they'd let her brand-new husband go assassin-hunting all by himself made Lytham's hair rise gently on his scalp. He glanced over at Edgar to see what he thought. "Let's get out of here. Maybe we can find Talaren," Edgar whispered, pulling Lytham's sleeve and nodding his head for a quick exit. Acquiescing, Lytham followed along with him. As they walked swiftly out of the chapel and into the night, Edgar muttered, "You think 'Oswain' or whatever his name was, took the horses?" Not the Edgar would really mind never riding again, but it certainly would make getting back to the Grand Hotel much more difficult. "I suppose it can't hurt to go look," Lytham responded fatalistically. "Even if he just left one, that's better than nothing. We can always ride double if we have to." One horse -- the one Lytham had ridden -- had been taken. Edgar's steady nag, however, was still there. Of Talaren there was no sign. Privately Lytham thought it was probably just as well that they'd been left with the more placid of the two horses, if they were going to try this doubling-up stunt. "Tell you what -- I'll help you mount first, then I'll get up in front of you. Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but all you'll have to do will be hang on to me." Edgar frowned as he looked at the horse and then at Lytham, "Well, you may be an acrobat, but I've no idea how you'll sit in front of me if I'm already seated on the horse... You climb up first and then I'll scramble on behind you." Lytham shrugged. "Whichever." He swung into the saddle, took up the reins, then reached a hand down to help Edgar mount. Edgar put his foot where Lytham directed, right on top of his boot, and held on to Lytham's hand, as he mounted, but it wasn't graceful. And just as he swung his foot across the horse's rump, he grazed it. Not too hard, but hard enough that the old horse thought it had been struck with a crop. Even as old as it was, it had enough energy in it to bolt. Edgar's hands clutched at Lytham, and he swore to make any space pirate proud, as he landed on the cantle of the saddle, his eyes crossing for a moment, but he managed to hang on to Lytham as they raced out into the night. Gritting his teeth when he managed to finally catch his breath and the stars faded from his vision, "I swear if they don't get tech and hover cars soon.... once I leave this planet I'm never sitting on one of these creatures again!" Lytham was helping Edgar turn the air blue (though with a somewhat different vocabulary) as he sawed on the reins to bring the horse under control. "Wouldn't have thought the old girl had this much fire left in her," he panted. By the time he had her down to a canter he'd decided to make for the hotel without further delay. Trying to search the surrounding area for Talaren would be sheer folly under the circumstances. The streets seemed quieter now. Lytham took the most direct way he could find back to the Grand Hotel, though he avoided the front entrance where Lady Tremontaine had been shot. He didn't wish to linger in the streets or, for that matter, prolong Edgar's discomfort any more than he had to. As they rode back into the hotel's stableyard, he looked around to see if there was anyone to take the horse. Edgar was just glad that he had made it back to the inn and wanted nothing more than to never, ever, ride a horse again. He didn't wait for someone to greet them before he scrambled off, rubbing his bottom in a most un-noble fashion. He looked around, surprised at how quiet it seemed to be, and wondered if Miles and Warden had managed to come up with some type of defense... And if so... What if they had and Lytham and he were about to walk into a deadly trap? "Lytham! Don't move! Remember they were trying to rig some sort of defense! What if they have?!" Lytham froze in the act of dismounting, his eyes widening; then, feeling all too vulnerable in the saddle, he slipped ungracefully off on the side away from the hotel. "What kind of defense were they trying to build?" he asked Edgar in a half-whisper, while peering uneasily over the horse's back toward the hotel. Edgar shrugged, but kept a nervous eye on the hotel. "Not exactly sure, but they were after springs and tubes... Probably some projectile weapon or something." Thinking he saw someone moving out by the stable he yelled out, "HO! MILES! Are YOU THERE?" Remembering who else had been tapped to work on the defenses, Lytham similarly called out, "Warden? It's me..." When long moments went by without any response, however, Lytham shrugged and said, "Doesn't seem to be anybody here. I think if there was something we'd have tripped it by now. We should put these horses in the stable and then go find -- well, I'm not sure. Lord Tremontaine, Lady Bahlmis, somebody." It also occurred to him that Josh Salter would practically slaver over the news they'd brought. As Edgar started to move toward the hotel, Miles popped his head out of the door near the ballroom. "Ho! There you are! "Good thing one of the servers heard you calling my name! You might have been our first demonstration of the cannon thing Warden's come up with." Miles grinned at his older brother. "Warden's a genius! You should see what he's built! And you know what? He thinks I've a real knack for this sort of thing. Maybe I'll become a mechanical engineer!" Edgar blinked with surprise. His brother was considering a career? Not just playing holo-games all of his life? Well, perhaps coming to Aquila had been good for at least one member of their family. "Is that why nobody was in the stableyard?" Lytham inquired dryly. "They're all cowering somewhere?" He took a few moments to lead his and Edgar's horse into the stable and deliver it into the care of the grooms there, before following Edgar and Miles into the hotel. (Continued in Carlysle Coup: Reporting In) |
