PlanningTheExperimentJovanna walked up the path to Anderon's estate, but not the main one that ended at a grand entry with manicured bushes and a double door. She went up a side one, where the gravel was less wide, and the landscaping, while by no means paltry, was not nearly so exact as that at the front. She came up to the side door and knocked, then waited, studying her surroundings with interest. Semicircular stone steps led up to a heavily carved door of dark, polished wood, flanked by narrow windows of decoratively colored glass in a piecework, abstract pattern. Jovanna did not have much time to study it, however, because the door was soon opened by a middle-aged manservant in Anderon livery. "Miss Starr?" queried this individual. "Please come in." Jovanna gave him a smile and a nod, then moved inside. She was dressed in her usual fare, when she wasn't being shuffled around school: slacks, a loose white shirt, and short boots. "I'm here to see Lord Giulian, but I suspect you already know that. Anyone else here, yet?" "You are our first visitor, Miss Starr," responded the manservant, "though I gather that more are expected shortly. If you will come with me?" In fact it was only a few steps from the front hall to the door he proceeded to open, on the right, but Jovanna had a chance to glimpse a flight of stairs leading up, another hallway opening to the left, and another door at the end of the hall in front of her, as well as what looked like a set of masks decorating the right-hand wall beyond the sitting room door. "Miss Starr has arrived, my lord," announced the manservant. Jovanna stepped in, looking around for her host. Giulian was seated in a caneback rocker near the fireplace, his crutches propped up near to hand in a brass rack that might have held fire irons in a previous existence. "Hello, Miss Starr," he said, raising a hand in greeting. "Lord Giulian," she said back amicably. "A lot of pomp for a couple of feet," she went on, sounding amused. She glanced at the manservant to see if he was staying. "I could answer my own door, I suppose," said Giulian, "but that would mean keeping my guests waiting a good deal longer. Have a seat." He gestured toward the comfortable-looking sofa and armchairs that formed a conversation circle around the fireplace. "A drink? Coffee?" There was a row of decanters with accompanying glasses on an oak sideboard to one side of the door, as well as a silver coffee service and cups. The manservant stepped over toward the sideboard in anticipation of serving the refreshments. "A drink would be ideal," she said. "I think I've gone over my coffee quota for the day. Spent all morning looking over some things that would dry up the sea. I needed something to keep me awake." She looked at the bar. "Want me to mix something up for you?" "Now, now," Giulian said in an admonishing tone, though with an amused glint in his eyes, "I promised you that when you visited me, you wouldn't have to serve drinks. That's Peterson's job. Just tell him what you'd like... I'll have coffee, please, Peterson, once you've served Miss Starr." Jovanna settled back into a chair with a laugh. "I'll have a scotch, thanks. Neat." She accepted it, but didn't drink quite yet. "You remembered. I'm impressed..." "Memory for detail," Giulian replied dulcetly, "is a family trait." "So, how've you been, since I saw you last?" "Busy," Giulian replied, giving her the same answer he'd given Jack the previous evening, then went on to add, "as I suspect you've been, as well." "As ever." She rolled her eyes. "I swear, I can't wait until classes start up again. It seems it's the off seasons that have me running from dawn till dusk. And after, sometimes." She was watching the manservant, apparently waiting for his departure. Another servant came in and handed a note to Giulian. It read, "Dear Jules, There's been a crisis of some sort at the vineyard and Daddy insists that I come with him for some reason. However, he absolutely swears that he will have me back in time to participate in the meeting, though I shall be a bit late. Please apologize to the others for me. I will be there as soon as possible. Sincerely, Renata" Giulian looked up from reading the note and informed Jovanna, "Renata says she'll be late. The others may be arriving soon, though. Peterson, I think we have what we need for the moment," he told the manservant, who nodded and went out, presumably to watch the door for new arrivals. As the sitting room door closed behind Peterson, Giulian looked at Jovanna expectantly. She cocked her head to the side, studying him. "So, should I expect to be arrested in the next week or so? Because I'd like to fit it in my schedule beforehand..." "Arrested? No, I don't think so," Giulian replied. "That wouldn't fit in with my plans at all." "Plans, is it?" She smothered a laugh, but couldn't cover a smile. "Do you already have an idea of what you're going to do with the favor I owe you?" Giulian nodded. "Oh yes ... but only if I need to. There are some other things that need to happen first, though -- and one of them is this experiment of ours." Jovanna sipped her drink, then set it down. "Now you have me intrigued. Since it seems I'll be helping you on more than one stage, care to fill me in? You could always blackmail me to keep my silence, after all." Giulian shook his head. "I'd rather not. It may not happen at all, and in the meantime I'd rather not raise anybody's expectations but my own." She tilted her head to the side. "Why are you in this? To learn something, or prove something?" "Both of those," Giulian acknowledged, "though in balance, more the former than the latter. What about you?" "To teach, to show. And," she admitted, "to learn. In my position, it's good to get to know the next ruling generation, right?" "Undoubtably..." Giulian looked at her speculatively. "In your position ... what is that, exactly? I mean, I know you're a student and a citizen by birth, but that latter especially covers an awful lot of ground. The Aquilan noble houses are only the tip of a very large and variegated pyramid." "Oh really?" she asked lightly. "I wasn't aware that power was so distributed in Aquila. Certainly, nothing I had ever learned pointed to that. Care to share?" Giulian spread his hands. "I wasn't talking about power, necessarily. More like statistical distribution." He smiled, an impish look in his dark eyes. "Not that I'm attempting to turn you into a statistic, Miss Starr." She chuckled. "I think I'm an outlier. "I'm well aware of the social strata of Aquila. I've lived almong many layers in a few years, and I feel I had an understanding of not only how they act, but interact. That's a class sorely missing at University." "It would be interesting," Giulian agreed. "Perhaps you'd be qualified to teach it in a few years." "Teach?" She sipped her drink. "Professor Starr... Has a ring to it, doesn't it?" For a second, her face brightened... but then it faded as something hard to read passed over her features. She glanced at the door. "Didn't think I was that early..." "Nor did I..." As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Devon waited outside, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched. Peterson must have received descriptions of the invited guests from Giulian, for when he opened the door he queried, "Mr. Byeroth? Please come in." Devon nodded curtly and stepped inside, looking around. His eyes lit on the closed door, the stairs beyond, and he waited to see which direction he'd be pointed in. Peterson moved toward the closed door. "Lord Giulian and Miss Starr are in the sitting room," he informed Devon, before opening the door. "Thanks." He started to say that he'd get the door, but just sighed as Peterson opened it instead. Jovanna turned and smirked at Giulian. "Speak of the devil..." "Oh, I hardly think it's that bad..." The door opened and Peterson announced, "Mr. Byeroth." Jovanna turned in her seat to look at the door, casting a smile on the new arrival. "Hello, Dev..." She was holding a drink, most likely alcoholic, in her hand, unlike Giulian, who nursed a coffee. They appeared to have been pulled from a conversation. "Hello, Jo. Lord Giulian." Devon stepped inside, and nodded again to thank Peterson. "Sorry I'm late -- I wanted to make sure I finished up getting my notes down so that I can start pulling together the actual report while I'm at work if I catch a few minutes of free time like the doc thought I might." He stayed near the door, even after it was closed. His hands were still shoved into his pockets, his hunched shoulders and skinny frame making him seem taller than he was. "Well, come in, sit down," Giulian invited, gesturing toward the couch and armchairs grouped around the fireplace. The furniture was a relatively harmonious hodgepodge, evidently chosen more for comfort than style. "Would you care for a drink? Coffee?" Devon sat on the couch, sitting correctly for only a moment before he moved into a slouching sprawl. He shook his head. "Not enough food in me for drink or coffee. I'd be climbing your walls, and the shakes are bad for any sort of credibility with the blade. Thanks anyway. Where is everyone?" "Renata sent a note to say she'd be late," said Giulian. "I expect Harry will arrive soon -- he's generally punctual. I sent a note to Talaren also, but I'm not sure whether he'll be able to make it." "You haven't eaten?" Jovanna was suddenly sitting a bit straighter. "Why haven't you eaten?" "Peterson," said Giulian. The manservant gave a brief nod and left the room. "I told you... I lost all day yesterday for working on the report, so I got to the library this morning as soon as it opened, and I didn't leave until I was sure I was ready to start writing things up." Devon shrugged. "Besides, I only missed breakfast, which I rarely ever eat, and lunch which well..." Another shrug. "I'm not starving, Jo. I'll go get some dinner after this." Jovanna rolled her eyes heavenward, then gave Giulian a smile. "Thanks." Giulian gave her a slight smile in return. He'd planned refreshments for a little later in the proceedings, but didn't see any harm in advancing the timetable. At this point, Harry arrived, early enough to maintain his record for punctuality. His eyes looked slightly dismayed at the prospect that, even so, he had been beaten to the punch by not an inconsiderable number of people. Still, he headed immediately to Giulian. Giulian extended a hand to his friend, smiling in welcome. "Hello, Harry." Harry shook Guilian's hand, nodding before releasing it and explaining himself. "I had some business to attend to," he said, smiling. "But there was no reason and cause for me to miss things," he reassured him. His eyes looked around. "So who all did you invite anyhow? Anyone I don't know?" "Just those of us who agreed to participate at the salon," Giulian assured him. "Renata sent to say she'll be late. I don't know about Talaren..." From his slouched seat upon the couch, Devon nodded to Harry. Jovanna shrugged. "I thought about stopping by and seeing him, but that always seems overly complicated... Waiting in sitting rooms, trying to get comfortable, second guessing what a long wait means... Hello can be stretched out a whole morning. Speaking of which," she gave Harry a smile. "Hello." Harry turned toward Jovanna and smiled in return. "Greetings, Miss Starr. And I would amend your statement to say that 'Hello' can be stretched out at least over the majority of a day, rather than just the morning. With practice, I am sure it would come easily to you. "As you say, it can be a useful skill in certain situations," he pointed out. Devon made a noise that sounded somewhere between a cough and a laugh. "I'll leave that skill to the ones that enjoy it." He cocked his head. "So... are you going to be learning other arts of conversation along this challenge? Like how to return any opening conversational gambit that includes fists or blades?" Harry turned to regard Devon and nodded respectfully. "I suppose that I am going to have to. Sometimes, words fail before knuckles or steel. A hard lesson to learn, but one I would have to learn in any event. "Or, at least," he amended, "better learnt than I have previously." "Another lesson for the learning," said Jovanna, "is that all of you might want to start dropping the 'Miss,' and 'Misters', and get used to being called by your first names. While they still do the formalities in the middle city, you won't find any in the lower city... At least, not without a boatload of sarcasm to go with." Giulian nodded. "I'd been thinking that, especially if we're going to be working together on this." He smiled, suddenly, in the direction of Devon and Jovanna. "I'm 'Jules' to my friends." "Will they be going in as themselves, or are we giving them new names?" Devon asked. "They're awfully recognizable... but we don't want special treatment, either or good or bad, either." At this point the door opened and a servant -- not Peterson, but a footman, in Anderon livery -- entered carrying a large tray of small sandwiches. He offered it first to Jovanna, then to Devon who was sitting nearest her, before passing on to Harry and Giulian. Devon shrugged. "Devon's fine for me, or Dev. Mister Byeroth sounds like someone else to me... it's hard to get used to things being so formal here." He took one sandwich with a muttered thank you, then quickly took two more and held them in one hand as he fell silent and concentrated on eating instead. Harold took one of the sandwiches and held it between thumb and forefinger as he regarded Jovanna and company. "And if they owe you money?" Harold inquired with a smile. Jovanna laughed. "I can't say, in polite company. Hate to burn anyone's ears off. But needless to say, debtors can be creative when they're spouting curses." Giulian, who had selected a token sandwich and nibbled at it perfunctorily, cocked his head and regarded Jovanna with interest. "And have you often been in that situation?" he asked. "Not since coming to school," she admitted. "I made sure to clear up things before starting. But there were days when I had discovered the joy of getting my own bar tab, and tossing around the odd pair of dice... And when I found out that I don't have the head for playing five card stud. Nothing I got my fingers broken over." Harold nodded appreciatively. "It pays to know that one is not adept at gambling, ere one becomes undeniably chained to same." Devon's three sandwiches were gone, and he sat quietly listening to the others banter as he slouched on the couch, waiting for the topic to turn to the challenge, and training. "I'd know that before you all go down there." Jovanna nibbled on her sandwich. "You won't have credit, so if your luck is rotten..." Harry nodded at Jovanna's words. "Better to eschew such pursuits then, while under the guise, rather than to get into troubles not easily extricated from, without the perquisites of position." He finished the sandwich he held in his hand in a few bites, and seemed content with this small amount of fare, for the moment. Devon's eyebrows went up. "Jo, you're going to need to teach him how to talk again. No offense meant," he nodded to Harry, "but not only are you recognizable, but you're using words people just aren't going to get." Jovanna chuckled behind her sandwich. "Dev's right. It would sound a bit off. And acting high and mighty is the surest way to get struck down. Let's hear you say it again, without the words we'd have to look up." Harry sighed, but nodded. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then spoke. His eyes flickered between Jo and Dev as he spoke. "Better to lay off the dice and cards then, while pretending to be a commoner, rather than to get into a fine mess that would be hard to get out of without the power of my rank to back me up." "Much better." Devon sat up, looking for the plate of sandwiches, and gathered another three into his hands. "Lesson number one." He gestured with one sandwich as he spoke. "Never give anyone ammunition against you. On the other hand, those big words of yours can come in handy later on, if you need them to confuse the guy you're up against. Piss them off enough, they'll make a mistake, and you can get away. So lesson one-A is use whatever ammunition the other guy gives you." Giulian, who had been listening intently, put in, "Same technique as in debating, really, but with a wider application." Harold nodded enthusiastically. "And speaking out of style, unless it's to effect, is tipping my hand prematurely to someone who might want to rearrange my face." "Something like that... If you do it normally, they'll figure you're going to be easy to roll, and you've lost the element of confusion you might get in the middle of a fight. Two-edges to the blade." Devon shrugged. "What other sorts of things should we need to know in order to blend in?" asked Giulian. "Come to that, how much are we going to try to blend in?" He looked over at Jovanna. "Devon asked this earlier, but will we be going in as ourselves, or in disguise somehow?" "Those are good questions, Giulian," Harry agreed, nodding and turning to see what Jovanna's response was to his friend's inquiry. Jovanna chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then swallowed. "There'll be some disguising, of course, but you're not as recognizable as you think. It's a long leap from the pages of Aquila Awake to seeing someone in the flesh. Even bathed, it would take someone a moment to put two and two together. When you're in tatters, with an inch of dirt on you, the most, the most you might get is someone saying you sort of look like so and so..." Giulian, who in recent years had begun to take a certain amount of pride in dressing well, winced just slightly at this description. "Please say you're exaggerating for effect," he begged. Jovanna simply smiled at the two of them brilliantly, without a touch of sympathy. "A good start would be getting you to try cutting your own hair. "Add to that that some of you haven't exactly been front page material yet. Renata, I don't think, has ever featured. Giulian, maybe once or twice, but nothing major... Harry, some, but nothing since he's come back. It's all been about the funeral. Your parents are the ones that everyone knows. Not you. Not... yet." "Some of that's been deliberate," Giulian murmured. Harry nodded in agreement. "Our families have tried to keep us out of the spotlight as much as possible. Which is why we've not been newsworthy. Or mostly not newsworthy." Harold flushed a moment, a thought occurring to him. "So see?" Jovanna held up a hand. "You won't be as easy to recognize as you think, at least at first blush. The next part will be about not standing out, and, if you do, being able to take care of yourself." She looked at the door and tsk'd. "Just like a Lord to keep you waiting..." But even as she was speaking, there was the sound of boots in the corridor, a sharp knock at the door, and Talaren's voice outside saying, "No, thank you Peterson, I shall show myself in." "Hullo, Talaren," said Giulian as the door opened. "Sit down, have a drink ... not necessarily in that order." "Thanks," said Talaren, making his way to the table and pouring himself a glass of wine before taking a seat at some distance from the fire and glancing swiftly, measuringly around. "No Lady Renata?" Devon nodded as Talaren entered. He sat up straighter on the couch, and the rest of the sandwiches he held were quickly and quietly consumed. He shook his head at Talaren's question. "Not yet. We've just been talking some about tactics while waiting for you and she to arrive. Although we got a quick lesson in with Renata yesterday, so if we want to talk about the defense training part of it before she gets here, she won't miss so much." "I got a note from her earlier," Giulian explained, "saying she'd be late -- something came up at the vineyards apparently -- but that she'd definitely be here. So in the meantime we've been discussing, mm, protective coloration." "Morning," said Jovanna, raising her glass to Talaren. "Maybe you can talk these gents out of going all green every time I talk about mussing them up." Giulian snorted. "She," he pointed at Jovanna, "has been shamelessly playing on the stereotypes she fondly imagines we harbor about the lives of ordinary citizens -- as if no one without birth or education cared a rap about neatness or personal hygiene." A snort of laughter from Devon. He sat forward, holding out his hands. While clean, they were calloused, both from sword use and from hard work. The nails were blunt and short. "These are the hands of someone who works for his food," he said plainly. "If I were home, you'd see dirt in all the little cracks, because no matter what I do, I can't get it out. Same under the nails. And not everyone's got the luxury of private bathing space, nor time to deal with frills and frippery when you've got to earn a bit to eat. And the clothes." He twisted his hand, showing the cuffs of his long sleeves, made of rough homespun fabric. "A little dirt, a little roughness, won't hurt you. And might go a long way towards making them forget that your hands haven't seen the kind of work ours have." "Naturally," Giulian responded. "And if I'd been working for years as a low-level clerk I'd have indelible ink stains and frayed cuffs and shiny elbows and darned stockings. I understand that. But that's still a far cry from the 'tatters and inch-thick grime' Jo was talking about. You make an effort. When you come in from the fields to sit down to dinner with your family, you wash your face and hands first, even if the dirt under your fingernails won't all come out." Talaren said nothing, leaning back in his chair and watching his young companions. "I think you overestimate the facilities in the lower city." Jovanna took a sip of her drink, then rolled the glass between her palms. "Certainly, a desk job would leave you a bit cleaner... But a walk to your job wouldn't. Since you'll be getting one of the more prestigious positions, you'll have the longest commute, so to speak. There's mud and muck to worry about, splatter from road traffic... Oh, and then there's always rain. Does havoc on everything." "I think if the purpose is to teach Lord Giulian about the lives of the urban poor rather than his own physical limitations -- of which I am sure he is fully aware -- then he should live as close to his work as practicable," said Talaren. "He'll see enough of the mud and muck of the streets if he only has to cross one or two a day. It shouldn't be too hard to arrange. There are Anderon Credit Unions in some of the poorer neighbourhoods, and they all need clerks." Harold nodded. "Save the longer walks for one such as I. This is supposed to be an educational experience." He nodded to Jovanna. "Not one which is overtly sadistic and torturous." Harry gave a sympathetic glance to Giulian. Just then a footman entered the room and announced Renata, who came in immediately after. She was only slightly breathless, and perhaps a trifle dusty from the round trip carriage ride, but her hair was neatly plaited and she was wearing a casually attractive dark green dress. "I am sorry, Jules, everyone. My father insisted that I accompany him to the vineyard to see to some crisis... but he promised he would make certain I got here, and so I am. Have I missed much?" "Nothing much." Jovanna nodded at Renata, giving her a brief smile, before turning to look at Giulian. "It's up to you. More of your money will go into rent, because I can assure you, you're not going to get paid any more than any of the others. That'll leave you short in other areas. You'll feel that, I'm certain." "Anderons are supposed to be able to economize," Giulian responded with a slight grin. "But we'll see what's available, and where, before we decide. Hullo, Renata, would you like a drink?" "A glass of wine would be lovely," she said, sitting down near Jovanna. She nodded at the others. "Alex didn't come?" She sounded a little disappointed. Jovanna frowned. "No... Though that doesn't discount him, really. Word was sent out rather quickly. He may just be caught up." She gave Renata a smile, meant to be reassuring. "I doubt he'd let you go into this all alone." "Oh, I'll be fine," she said with a smile in return. "Whatever you've got planned for us, I know you're not planning on getting us into anything we can't get out of... it's just I thought... there might be something for him in this, something he might learn... or prove." "Prove?" Jovanna quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing further. She looked around the room. "He may just be busy. I'm sure you can hit him over the head tonight." She looked back out over the gathering. "We seem to have something of a quorum... Should we move on to training?" "Yes, let's," seconded Giulian, sitting forward in his chair. "What do you have planned for us in the way of combat training ... and in addition to that?" "I'm at your disposal," drawled Talaren. "What ideas do you have?" He was looking at Jovanna and Dev. Harold turned to regard Jovanna and Devon, awaiting the answer to Talaren's question. Devon sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Well, I'll be looking to you," he nodded at Talaren, "to help guide with the teaching. I've not done a lot of it, but I'm skilled with a blade and with my hands, and I've certainly got a lot of tricks I can show. It's not all about the fancy stuff -- get into a bar brawl and none of that'll do you any good. It's about playing to your strengths. Like for you," he nodded to Giulian, shifting his full attention in that direction. "You've not been trained with a blade because it doesn't make sense for you. But you're armed nonetheless, and I can show you how to use that so that you won't be defenseless. What we really need is a salle and time we can use it on a regular basis so we can get started. And be ready to get bruised. I've been bruised more than I can even imagine." Devon laughed ruefully, rubbing one shoulder. "He's actually quite good," Renata said. "He and his uncle showed me some things the other day... and then Sienna showed me some unarmed techniques..." She smiled. "It's fascinating and actually rather fun!" "Until the bruises." Jovanna smiled, but it was hard to tell if it was teasing. "I'll be mostly in for consulting, and keeping it from getting too impractical. Remember... for the most part, this is how to get away. There's nothing to be won by diving into a bar fight with a taste for blood or honor." Harry shuddered noticeably at the mention of bruises. He nodded at Jovanna's words. "I'm not much for sanguinary actions," he confirmed and then chuckled. "Or, to use a simpler dialect, I don't relish getting a bloodied or broken nose." "No, nor I," said Giulian, though he'd shown no visible reaction at the mention of bruises. "Then maybe you don't belong in the lower city," Devon said bluntly. "But the point is... bruises now can save your life later on. I don't aim to break your nose or even bloody it. I aim to make sure you can keep that from happening long enough to get away. Or you can know how to take a hit that'll bloody you, but won't kill you, and again, let you get away." Harry nodded at this and turned to Devon. "Whether I belong there or not, I've agreed to do this, and I think it would be a useful immersion. I'm not going to back out now." He realized Jovanna was observing him, and he gave a curt nod to Devon, and quieted. Jovanna looked back from her study of Harry to nod at Guilian. "So, does Anderon have any practice yards available?" "We have a salle in the main part of the house," he answered wryly, "but as Talaren pointed out at the salon, if we practiced there we'd be all too likely to have servants come running every time they heard a particularly loud thump. He suggested we use the salle at Bahlmis House." He looked over at Talaren to confirm this. Devon looked at him, startled. "You can come and go through the rear door in the wall -- although I'm sure my aunt and my cousins would appreciate visits as well. You won't disturb the horses -- we don't keep many, and they're stabled at the opposite end." "Thank you," Devon spoke quietly, looking down at his hands for a moment. "How long a training period are we anticipating?" Renata asked, sipping at her wine. "Depends on when Jo wants to get everything started up," Devon said. He looked back up at the others. "We'll need enough time to get you guys comfortable enough being in rough parts, if things get rough, and more importantly, getting away from it. We don't need to make any of you masters at the craft. And we'll need to work it in around classes." He glanced at Jovanna for her input. Jovanna reckoned silently on her fingers. "We've got a break before classes start up again... So I'd say a week for training, and a week for being out there. That gives you another week to recover before being tossed to the tenured lions again. If you all are apparent prodigies in the salle, maybe we can move up showtime." "A week of hard training should do it," agreed Talaren. "We're after practical techniques, not finesse. In fact ... finesse would probably just get you into more trouble." Devon nodded. "Most of the time, down and dirty is best. Look too fancy, and they'll realize you're not one of them." Again there was the announcement of a late arrival. Romeo Acciaio entered, sweeping off his black velvet cap. His demeanor seemed at odds with the somber blacks he still wore in the Dragon's remembrance. Devon sat up from his slouched position as Romeo entered. "A week of hard training?" he said with a smile. "I know I've stumbled into something interesting, now." He offered a smile for the room with specific nods for the Heir, his host. Devon received a momentary meeting of eyes and a shrug of Romeo's shoulders. Devon gave a slight nod, and a glance to Romeo's side, then a shrug in return. "Byeroth can attest to finesse getting the better of even skilled fighters." A soft snort of laughter. Devon slumped back into his seat on the couch again, a half-smirk, half apologetic smile tilting his lips. Giulian grinned. "I'd settle for being able to surprise a few people. Hullo, Romeo, how did you find out about our little conspiracy here? Sit down, have a drink..." "Don't mind if I do," he said. "As to finding your conspiracy, I truly was only looking for Lord Harold. But since I'm here, maybe I can offer some legal advice," he joked. Harold gave a nod and a smile to Romeo. "And you have found me," he grinned to Romeo. Giulian looked over at Jovanna. "So while we're in training, you'll be looking out positions for us? Or have you done that already?" Jovanna moved her gaze back from Romeo to Guilian. "They've been found... I sent some notes out, last week, asking about redeeming some favors. Acciaio--" she turned back to Romeo. "So, you're offering yourself up as an advisor? Or are you curious?" Renata also turned towards her cousin. "Oh, do join in, Romeo! We're bound to learn an awful lot, and it can't help but benefit House Acciaio in administering the law, don't you think?" Devon offered a lazy grin, but did not add his voice to the query. Romeo smiled at Renata, and turned to Jo. "Well, I'll admit to curiosity. But more of the personal kind than for the House," he replied. His eyes were suggestive even if his tone wasn't. Devon stiffened, then slowly relaxed into an almost calculated slouch. For a moment, the look he gave Romeo was dark indeed, before he ducked his head, hiding stormy chocolate eyes behind a fall of hair. Jovanna, while near to Devon, didn't seem to register his reaction. She simply raised an eyebrow at Romeo, her own expression difficult to read. "I don't think anyone ever doubted you had interests outside of the house," she said, a smile alighting her lips, and almost touching her eyes. "That is, what in the world we're all doing here?" Giulian guessed. "And why," added Jovanna. "By all means, join us. Take a seat. There's little sandwiches. Drinks, too. If you decide not to trek down the lower city, you'll at least be a good target in the training yard, yes? You're the Fencing Club's champion." Devon glanced at Romeo, then quickly hid a grin. "Some might argue the title," Romeo shrugged. "I've been beaten, by myself as often as my opponent." "So, to listen, eh? All right, you've hooked this fish, let's see if you can land it." He spread his hands offering the floor to someone else. "Well, we were just geting into the training plans when you came in," Devon said, sitting forward, elbows on his knees. "Lord Talaren is letting us use the salle over at Bahlmis." A moment's pride shone in Devon's eyes. "And we'll be making sure everyone can handle themselves well enough to get away just in case they get caught in something unexpected. We don't expect anyone to go down into the lower city looking for a fight." Harold grinned from his position, listening to Devon take the conversation by the reins, and the verve he was showing in doing so. He nodded at Devon's last comment. "Oh, I shouldn't think that will be a problem," Renata said airily. "Some of us may be headstrong, but I don't think any of us are that stubborn -- or stupid, for that matter." "OK, must I ask the obvious question? What are we all going to be doing in the lower city?" Romeo was looking directly at Devon, but the question was obviously up for grabs. "Working for a living," Giulian informed him, virtuously, then added, "For a change." "And," added Jo, perhaps a little pointedly, "to learn about the people that make up the largest percentage of your population--" But at the same time, Devon was speaking. "Finding out how the other half lives. I grew up with my hands in the dirt--" Jovanna stopped, as did Devon, and she gave an embarrassed laugh. She waved for him to go ahead. Devon nodded, quirking a smile. "Finding out how the other half lives," he repeated firmly. "I grew up with my hands in the dirt, and I'm working over at the Clinic so I can keep a roof over my head while at University," he admitted bluntly. "And I'm better off than a lot of the people you all will be deciding policy for eventually. This is your chance to understand the people whose lives you'll be changing, for better or worse, someday. See why people want change, and see what those changes'll do." Jovanna waited for him to finish, before finishing off her own thought. "As it stands, the only members of your level of society that have spent significant time in the lower city were kidnapped and held there." Renata knew of the heinous abduction of Salla Lasse and Jack Kennington, and her own father's part in their rescue, not to mention the fuss throughout Aquila over the return of the Lasse heiress. She was rather curious about Lady Salla and hoped to encounter her. "I doubt that they would have many insights into city life in Aquila today, however." "Well, no offence meant to you, Miss..." Romeo trailed off hoping she'd fill in the missing name. "Starr," she filled in. "But even most of the people that live there wouldn't go there if they didn't have other options," he said with a shrug. "I can understand trying to find the pulse of the people, and I think that there's many instances where nobility is a virtue, not a birthright, but what do we expect to truly learn from this? Mind you, I'm not opposed, in fact I'm more intrigued than I had expected," he admitted. "I suppose training in law leads one to play the devil's advocate." "And we're your first course." Jovanna rolled her eyes, but there was still a hint of mirth there. "I think you'll learn what's been ignored so gallantly in the years gone by, and what the cost of that inattention is. Perhaps you'll learn more about how your city works, more than you'll ever learn in a classroom, I assure you. You'll learn, practically, that band-aid solutions of pretty orphanages do nothing to alleviate the problems currently boiling in the lower city. And maybe, you'll want to do something about it." Devon leaned back again, arms crossed, legs stuck out straight ahead of him. His gangly form managed to take up a good deal of space, all on his own. Now that Jovanna was talking, he seemed fine with letting her continue as spokesperson. "And, what's your angle, Miss Starr?" Romeo asked simply. There was no accusation in his tone, perhaps curiosity. "Nothing nefarious." She held out her hands, palms up. "A commoner, I have no power to change the laws themselves. So, instead of simply enduring, I wish to influence those who make the laws, to change their way of thinking." "And we've been tapped because we're young and impressionable," quipped Giulian, deadpan. "It's not a bad plan," Renata said with a smile. "If you want to do something for the future, you need to address the people who will be in power then. Which could lead us to ask why I was included, since I'm unlikely to exercise any direct power. Not that I'm complaining about being part of this," she added. "I wouldn't miss it for the world..." A soft snort of laughter from Devon. "If you think women hold no power in a male driven world..." He glanced over at Renata, the dry sound dying away with a smile. "You're a member of the nobility. Even if you don't think you have power of your own, you'll find a way to make your husband listen to you. And better yet, plan to have your own power and you will. This is all about change." Devon shrugged. "Oh, I understand about indirect power," Renata said, "better than you think." Her mind went to her Aunts Iolanthe and Nellie, to Lady Anderon and many others. "So I do take your point there. As for direct power... I suppose we shall see." "Heh, then if there had been a recruiting drive, my sister might've been a better choice than I, for if she had her way, she'd be the most direct-indirect power in the local media," Romeo chuckled. "All right, I'm in," he agreed with a nod of his head. "And I appreciate that you've thought it through enough to give some self-defense training to those in need. And believe me when I say, Lord Harold needs it. "You've been working unarmed as much or more than with blades?" he asked, almost business-like now that he'd accepted his place in the group. "We haven't -- or at least, some of us haven't -- actually started training yet," said Giulian. "That's what we were talking about when you came in. But yes, unarmed combat is definitely going to be part of the curriculum." "Also using everyday objects. And the only start we've made was a bit of sparring in the salle yesterday with my uncle." Devon nodded at Jo and Renata. "It wasn't anything planned. Gyles showed Jo and Renata a few things with a blade, and Sienna showed Renata a bit about working without a blade." His brows drew together. "Did anyone think about getting a message to her? I thought she was going to help out." "That's Madame de Corven's daughter, isn't it?" asked Giulian, before adding a trifle apologetically, "I don't believe we've met." "She's quite marvelous," Renata said. "She and Jovanna and I had lunch together the other day, and then that session at the salle with Devon and his uncle. And I offered to take her shopping for new clothes, but we haven't had the chance yet." "She was with us when I sent the note and trained..." Jovanna frowned. "I thought she was invited." Her gaze turned inward as she went over the events of the day before. "I'll be happy to pair with Miss Starr," Romeo said with a goodnatured smile that curled into an amused smirk, waiting for Byeroth's expected reaction. Another annoyed pout from Renata, who knew Romeo well enough to know he was being deliberately provocative.... Devon scowled, his arms crossed and tightening as his body stiffened. He remained leaning back, but his body language was wary as he bit his tongue and glanced at Jovanna. A sudden grin almost escaped at some unvoiced thought, and he started to relax. Harold held his tongue as the body language rose up between Renata and Devon. Once Devon grinned, though, Harold managed a grin, and then a short laugh. Jovanna's head rose up from her reverie, and she gave Romeo a smile. "Sadly for you, I don't think I'll be training. After all, I'm living proof that I can make it on my own in the lower city. Consider me more of a... consultant." "Then, that's the very reason you should be sparring against me," Romeo answered. "You'll fight like someone from there, as opposed to me facing one of the other students. That would only be at best a guess as to what a tough from the lower city would fight like. "Even Byeroth's perhaps too schooled to give an accurate representation," he mused out loud. "Not that I consider you some ruffian, Miss Starr," he added. He swept her with an appraising look. "Not at all." Devon's grin disappeared, swallowed in a deepening scowl. One hand clenched. "Catch me in a bar with no blade and you'll see what I can do with a chair," he muttered under his breath. He sat up and stared at Romeo, raising his voice directly to speak to the other man. "I've been in plenty of bar fights. What little classical training I had ended when I was twelve -- it's all been improvisation since then. I'm sure I'll provide enough of an opponent for you." "Down boy," Romeo chuckled. Devon's scowl only deepened at Romeo's words. Jovanna gave Devon a warning look, then moved her attention back to Romeo. "The point of training isn't to romp around the salle. It's to learn how to defend oneself long enough to get away. Fights in the lower city are deadly serious. There's no calling Uncle, no counting of touches then dropping blades." She sighed. "Let me see what we're working with. Then I'll consider sparring, okay?" Romeo nodded agreement. "But that raises an interesting question," he continued. "There are laws on the books, no matter how ancient, about commoners raising a hand to the noble born," he commented. "Do we have a consensus about how we might handle such issues if they arise? It's not the training that concerns me, it's trying someone for ignorance. Like trying to clean my clock because their girlfriend took an interest and not understanding the repercussions." Devon bit his tongue and leaned back again, with careful silence. He stared at a point on the wall, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "I think that we of title and birth should draft a document that releases at least our conspirators from any responsibility, and consider waiving any statutes that are based on rank and peerage," Romeo suggested. "Except you, Your Grace," he chided. "Except me?" Harold said queryingly, peering at Romeo ever since he began his proposal. "You can't waive such rights," the Acciaio said. "No matter how dirty you decide to get in the lower city, you must always be an Heir." "How does that make him different from the rest of us?" asked the Heir of Anderon, curiously. "There's a sense in which none of us can get away from our birth and upbringing, but isn't part of the point of the exercise to see if we can do without the privileges that go with them?" "Heir of a house, even one as grand as Anderon, while there's still a Lord Anderon may be forgiven many things in our circles," Romeo began. "However our elders choose to dismiss our conspiracy, when... not if... when they learn of it, I can't say, but we play on a much smaller scale than Harry, even if he doesn't admit it." Giulian waved a hand negligently. "They already know about it -- at least, some of them were at Lady Bahlmis's salon when we first came up with the idea. My father knows, Renata's father knows..." "In my mind, there's a difference between heir to a house and heir to a planet." Harold held up his hand. "You are assuming of course that I do wind up in the Dukedom and I don't wind up comfortably housed in some dungeon while Decuma rules Aquila." He looked at everyone gathered, wondering if his blunt speech was something they had not heard, or thought about before. Giulian frowned slightly. "Decuma wouldn't do that. No more than you'd do it to him, Harry." Renata's eyes darkened and her expression was cautious, muted. She had, in the most private corners of the Nest, heard her father's opinion of Lord Lagoran, and the importance of the coronet going to Harry, not just for their family, but for Aquila. The stakes were high, she knew that. Still... dungeons? She didn't want to believe that. She didn't know Decuma, but she didn't want to allow that he could do such a thing to his own brother. Even with a planet at stake. "A moot point, as you'll gain the coronet," Romeo said with mock conviction, "Your Grace." Turning back to the others, he rose to pour another drink. "Anyone care for another? Renata?" he asked. "I need one," Harold said, trying to add some light to the darkness he had just cast into the room. "Please." If Harry could, she could. Renata replaced her smile and turned towards Giulian. "Yes, all right. Thank you. It's good," she said, referring to the wine. Romeo served Renata first and then Harry before making his way to Jovanna and Devon. Devon accepted a refill, then leaned back, sipping it to mask his sour expression. Jovanna was watching Harry over the edge of her glass, considering, but her features shadowed enough to hide her thoughts. She accepted a refill, then nursed it. Harry returned the look, letting his eyes wander over to her target when she spoke, and then back again to her. "Glad to have you on, Acciaio. We could use a law-man in the group. Now, are you in for training... or for the whole run? You don't have to answer now, but I'd like you to consider it." Romeo was completing his circuit of the room, offering the bottle to Giulian as he answered. "Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound," Romeo answered with none of the flirtatious nature of earlier. "Good. We should get started as soon as possible," Devon said, voice flat. "We should go over and check the salle at Bahlmis today, and make plans for the rest of the training. I don't have a lot of time -- I'm supposed to be at the hospital for work later. But I'd like to get everyone comfortable with what we'll be doing for training, and if you're going to be involved," a dark glance at Romeo, "I suppose we should sit down and map out a plan eventually." "As soon as everyone's wetted up enough," Jovanna held up her glass and swirled the ice, "I think we can head out. Any objections?" "As long as the Bahlmis salle is ready for us," said Giulian, glancing over at Talaren, "I think we're ready for it ... unless we're waiting on anybody else?" "It could do with a good clean," said Talaren blandly. "I haven't used it for a while. But that would probably be a good start for you." Devon nodded. "A bit of work never hurt a body." Giulian addressed Renata. "You said Madame de Corven's daughter might be interested?" He cocked an eyebrow at Jovanna. "Should I order up carriages, or should we start getting used to walking everywhere?" "Normally I'd say walking," said Jovanna, setting her glass aside. "But I think with Dev needing to head out, we should get there as quickly as possible." Harry nodded at Jovanna's assessment. "I am going to wind up with calluses on both feet and hands after this, at the very least." He smiled thinly. "Pfft..." Jovanna waved her hand at him. "No you won't. Calluses take time. You're more likely to get blisters." She gave him a sharp grin. "Carriages this time, though," said Giulian. "Talaren, how did you come? The coach can hold four, maybe five in a pinch, and I can take one more in my curricle with me. Jo, can I tempt you?" Jovanna raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Never ridden in one of those. A two-seater, right?" Giulian nodded. "Two seats, two horses -- as fine a pair of chestnuts as you'll ever see. Very speedy." Devon's expression remained tight, and what was left of his drink disappeared, very quickly. Romeo raised his almost empty glass to Giulian in a salute for winning this round, and catching the others unaware that he was playing. "Not as speedy as a horse," said Talaren. "I rode. And, my horse having been suitably rested and watered, I'll ride back." He rose easily to his feet. "If you'll excuse me ... I shall see you there, yes?" "I'll keep you company, if you don't mind," Romeo offered. "I rode as well." Renata got up, a little amused and a little concerned. For someone who wasn't interested in marriage or romance, Jovanna seemed to be attracting a wide variety of suitors. That amused her. But the look on Devon's face as Romeo and Giulian played their hands... that concerned her a little. She got the feeling Devon was serious about Jo; Romeo might be, or he might be playing with Devon, or both. As for Jules... he wasn't that kind of player. Maybe he was seriously interested in Jovanna, maybe not... There was too much she didn't know right now. "Maybe we'll only need the barouche, then, for Renata and Harry and Devon," said Giulian. "Peterson..." The manservant nodded and went out. "We'll leave a message, for anyone else who shows up, to follow us to Bahlmis House," Giulian suggested. The Anderon stables were efficient, so it was not long before the sound of hoofs and wheels on the drive outside signaled that the carriages had been brought round: the barouche complete with a driver in Anderon colors, and Giulian's custom-built curricle. Signaling to Jovanna to wait, Giulian went first to the chestnuts' heads, greeting them with soft words and stroking their noses, before he climbed into the light carriage with the help of special handholds. Once he was seated and had hold of the reins, he beckoned Jovanna, with a smile, to join him. Jovanna hopped up, then settled in. Devon glanced over as Jovanna joined Giulian in the curricle, then moved past to the barouche. Talaren, mounted on a handsome bay stallion, signalled to Giulian that he would be off, and waited till Romeo was ready to accompany him. "If we cut through Maun Park, we'll be there faster," he suggested, as they rode through the gates. "Unless you want to ride dashingly next to the carriages and impress the ladies -- the carriages will have to keep to the roads." In the meantime, Harry went to the side of the carriage and waited, with a small smile upon his lips, for Devon and Renata to come forward so that they might be seated first in the barouche. Devon joined Harry there, and held out one hand to Renata to offer to hand her up into the carriage. "Thank you," she said with a smile, taking the offered hand and stepping up into the barouche. She wanted to tell him everything would work out all right, but since she really didn't know exactly what was going on, she decided, for now, against it... "Excellent," Harold said once his travelling companions were loaded. He stepped up himself, taking the nearest open space. Devon took the space opposite Renata, stretching his legs out into the space. In the curricle, Jovanna touched the wood with the gingerness that goes with experiencing something novel. She glanced at the reins in Guilian's hands, curious. "You enjoy driving?" "My second passion -- at least," Giulian answered. "Let 'em go!" he called to the groom, who stood away from the horses' heads. With a flick of the reins the chestnuts began to move, going quickly from a walk to a swift trot. Guided with a light, firm hand, the curricle bowled down the drive and through the south gates at speed. Once out into the street, where there were other vehicles and pedestrians to be maneuvered around, Giulian checked the horses' pace somewhat, but they were still moving briskly. "Second, hmm?" Jovanna leaned back, her eyes scanning the crowd casually. "What's the first?" "At the moment? Learning," he answered. "Though some of my friends might try to convince you that in the past few months it's been interior decoration. That's just my latest project." "Redecorating. Hm." Jovanna smirked. "Tried that. Uni made me take down the protest signs I'd collected. Hate mail, too. Said it corroded morale or something like that. I offered to move out, but they liked that even less." "Obviously you didn't agree with them about the corrosion of morale," Giulian said equably, guiding his team deftly around a farm cart. "Yours, anyway. Do you find the contemplation of hate mail bracing?" "I find it amusing." Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something in the crowd, but soon, they were past it. "They're fun to tear apart for logical inconsistencies and inaccuracies. One, I sent back after letting a lit friend of mine proofread it. Looked like he'd bled on it." An explosive chuckle came from Giulian. "I don't know why strong emotion should cause a complete breakdown of one's spelling and grammar, but I've noted that it frequently does." He slanted a quick glance at Jovanna before returning his eyes to the road. "Or do you think that's a permanent disability of the sort of people who tend to write that sort of letter?" "I figure it's some sort of brain damage." Jovanna rolled her eyes. "It gets aggravated when you start pouring logic on, or other things that offend delicate disabilities. They don't like the brochures about typist machines that check your writing, either... I can always bring you a bundle if you feel like proofreading." "I have the feeling I'm going to be busy enough without that," Giulian disclaimed, while threading the curricle neatly between two larger and slower town coaches. Jovanna's hand snapped up, gripping the side of the coach as they made the narrow pass. Her face didn't waver, in spite of her whited knuckles. "I think we'll all be a tad busy, won't we?" "For the next few weeks, certainly," Giulian agreed. "Ah, here we are at Bahlmis House!" He turned the team in at the gates and onto the graveled drive. "I think we'll go directly to the stables--that's nearer the salle," he explained as they drove around toward the back of the house. Jovanna nodded, her eyes roaming over the House, taking in details and craning her neck to study trees that passed. The house looked much the same as on the night of the salon. The gardens were a little more advanced, and the trees that shaded it were tall and old. Then they turned, and her attention went back to the way before them, and seeing if they were first to arrive or not. In the stable yard they found Talaren and Romeo, who had clearly just led their horses into the stables themselves. Talaren was in conversation wth a groom; when the carriage drew up, he signalled the groom to go to the horses' heads, and then waited for the new arrivals to descend. "If you could climb out first and let me hand you out my crutches, that would be helpful," said Giulian. A few moments later the Anderon barouche followed them into the stableyard. Harold waited patiently for the carriage to stop before he rose from his seat. He moved to disembark first, so that he might aid his fellow passengers in getting up and out of the vehicle. He looked between Devon and Renata, waiting to see who would take the offer of his outstretched hand first. Renata accepted the proffered hand, placing her own in it lightly, and stepping gracefully from the carriage to wait for Devon. She had been to Bahlmis House before, of course, and wondered if they would encounter any of the family there, and if so, what they knew about the 'experiment'. Devon scrambled down on his own, his attention skittering past Harry and Renata to light upon Giulian's vehicle and Jovanna. His expression smoothed, and he looked away to survey the place where they had arrived. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, slouching as he stood there, waiting for some signal where to go. Romeo stepped up behind him and clasped him warmly on the shoulder. "And another lesson already learned. To look like a cit, slouch," he chuckled. Devon jumped when Romeo's arm fell across his shoulder, and he glared up at the taller man. "And to impress the women, chest out, Dev," he said thumping Dev's chest good naturedly with his fist. Devon shrugged out of the way, turning away from the thump. "My chest is fine," he snapped. He stopped after a step, glancing sideways at the girls. "If I have to strut to impress her, I'm after the wrong woman," he muttered. He shrugged at Romeo. "I'm not a nob." For a moment a smile flickered, a pale attempt at teasing. "Byeroth, I'm not after Miss Starr, no matter how intriguing she seems," Romeo answered. "Nothing worse to come between two men than a woman no matter his or her birth," he said seriously in almost an apology for his early jibes. Devon nodded. Romeo kept his voice down as he added, "Now, if you need a man between two women..." He smiled salaciously. "That's something else to be discussed and rather costly from what I've heard. Remind me to take you along on my next visit to Madame Church's. I've just decided to 'keep' the sweetest little bit there and I'm sure we can find you one of her friends." Devon flushed, "I've..." he began, lapsing into silence as Harry spoke. "The very same one?" Harold asked Romeo. He then turned to Devon. "Peace, friend Devon. Romeo is not quite the epitome of his name. There are those," Harold smiled, "that would assign his name to such as I. "Right?" his eyes were friendly and amused as he looked around. "I wouldn't know," Devon muttered, still flushed and uncomfortable. He watched Jovanna for a minute, then turned his attention back to Romeo and Harry. "It's probably expensive." He shoved his hands back into his pockets, and shrugged. "I don't spend much except on the essentials." "Right," said Talaren briskly -- he had been giving orders to the grooms on the care and stabling of the horses. "Shall we go in?" He indicated a long enclosed room at one end of the stables -- perhaps, in the days of the prosperity of the House, it had been another wing of the stables. Now, as he led them over to it and pushed open the door, they could see that it was a long and dusty room, with shuttered windows on the far side, and an earthen floor scattered with straw. There were odd bales of hay here and there, and the whole room smelled faintly sweet and musty -- like a barn where apples are stored. "Here you are," said Talaren. "There are mirrors at that end -- but they'll need cleaning." Harry waited for Devon and Renata before entering, looking about the long and dusty room. He ran a finger against the wall, nodded and turned to Talaren. "Do we have anything to clean them with, or should we not bother now?" he asked. "Your call," said Talaren. "There are rags and cleaning kit in the kitchen that I can get you. But Miss Starr and Mr Byeroth might feel that it's more authentic as is." "Either way, we're like as not to get dusty," Renata said cheerfully. She had vowed before the gathering started that she was going to deal with the challenge properly from the very first. It wasn't simply to impress Jovanna or Sienna or any of them, really. She was a daughter of Tremontaine and, in her mind, her honor was involved here. Jovanna glanced at Devon, then shrugged. "They don't need to sparkle. But it's a good idea not to have the blades falling out of your hand when you're using them. I'd like to point out, though, that the idea is to get away before blades are drawn. This isn't a salle we're going to, and women don't carry blades." "We'll do some basic bladework, but mostly so I can teach you how to handle other weapons just in case," Devon said. "Whatever's handy. Chairs. Mops. Something to get a jab in and get away. But this..." he gestured at the salle. "A little hard work never hurt a person. But I've only got time to teach or clean today... I've got to get over to the clinic for work after this. So it's really up to you. We either start with the teaching today, or we clean and start the teaching next time we meet." Giulian, who had come in with Jovanna, said, "I vote for training today. After all, we're supposed to learn to be less fastidious, too, right?" |
