CallingontheDuchessCalling on the DuchessOnce Huttner is gone, Espérance brews herself a fresh cup of tea while preparing to call on the Duchess Tremontaine. She dresses carefully though without ostentation; this is a business call more than anything, certainly not a party. A clean shirt; well cut but sober vest and breeches; polished boots. Some impulse causes her to secrete the box containing the message stone in a belt pouch, and bring it with her. She buckles on her sword, dons her wide-brimmed hat with its fluttering white plume, and is ready to go. "Coming, Hugo?" She tilts her head inquiringly at the big black dog as she opens the door. A simple, sharp bark of assent, and Hugo moves to follow her. The streets of Riverside are fairly quiet at this hour of the morning, as its residents sleep off the night before. A few acquaintances hail the swordswoman, but Espérance's return greetings are perfunctory at best as she takes the quickest way to the bridge. Once over the bridge and into the Middle City, things are livelier, with bakeries, cookshops, coffee houses, and other small businesses opening for the day. Espérance does not pause here either. Her destination lies on the Hill, where the nobles of the city have their mansions. The wafting of smells, and the earliest of patrons and proprietors give glances at Espérance as she makes her way. Once arrived at Tremontaine House, she rings at the front entrance and tells the servant who answers, "Please to inform Her Grace that Espérance St. Vier would like to speak with her at her earliest convenience." The nearly cadaverously thin, tall servant gives a nod of his head. "Come in, Miss St. Vier. Your hound is welcome as well," he says, leading Espérance and Hugo inside, and immediately to the right to a small, square, sitting room that she is more than familiar with. "I shall return presently, Miss St. Vier," he says, and departs the room, leaving Espérance with a picture of the Duchess' grandfather Archibald, on horseback, regarding her and Hugo with a stern demeanor. As usual, Espérance can't help wrinkling her nose at stuffy old Archibald. She strongly suspects that Katherine only gave him house-room (or rather, wall-space) because of the magnificence of the horse. Five minutes of this scrutiny later, the servant returns. "Her ladyship would be pleased to have you join her at breaking her fast this morning. If you will follow me." With a nod of assent, Espérance follows the servant. The servant leads Espérance through rooms and corridors on the first floor of the expansive house that is the home of House Tremontaine until he reaches a staircase, and then leads her upstairs. The servant displays his typical silence. The only sound besides footfalls is the soft breathing of Hugo, loyally following alongside the swordswoman. The trio finally arrives in a room with a view of the garden behind the house. Sunlight, now more strongly beaming across the landscape than it did earlier, streams into the yellow and pastel decorated room, with highlights of fanciful painted twinings of ivy and other plants here and there. The long brown haired Duchess is seated at an oval table set near the window, and with a smooth motion turns so that she can regard the arrival of Espérance, Hugo and the servant. "Good morning," the Duchess says to Espérance, with an unforced smile. "Good morning, Your Grace," replies Espérance, according her a bow. [The Duchess] then turns to her servant. "Thank you, Thomas. Resume bringing the breakfast." The servant, Thomas, gives a grave nod, and departs the room, leaving Espérance and Hugo in the room that the Duchess has chosen to break her fast. "Even given what occurred a few days ago," the Duchess says, "I did not expect to see you again so soon." "I didn't expect it either," Espérance admits, "but there have been further developments. Probably unrelated," she adds thoughtfully, "though one never knows. In any case, Your Grace..." She takes a deep breath and looks the Duchess squarely in the eye. "...it's become imperative that I find my father." The Duchess meets Espérance's gaze levelly and holds it for a few moments. She can almost see the wheels turning behind the Duchess' eyes. Finally, she sighs and breaks the gaze. "I believe that you do," The Duchess says. "Somehow, I think you've suspected I've known more, and have been holding and biding your time on asking me that question." Espérance nods. "Things you've said from time to time," she says quietly, "sometimes even just your expression when I've spoken about him." "Tell me of these further developments, first. I would like to know just what has spurred you to bring you to my door at this early hour." "Ah, good, Thomas." The servant has returned, with a trolley. "Please serve." She then looks at Espérance. "Continue." "Unless what you have to say is *that* private or secret?" the Duchess adds. "I don't know that it is, really," replies Espérance. A corner of her mouth tilts up as she remembers, "The visitor I had this morning was shown in by Judith Bluefield, so that at least is probably all over Riverside by now. And unless the man was a raving lunatic, which I don't believe he was unless he was hiding it very well, he brought me a message ... from my mother." This gets a look of surprise from the Duchess and she blinks her eyes uncertainly for a few moments. "Your ladyship?" Thomas says after a moment, interrupting his progress. Finally, she waves a hand. "Continue, Thomas," she says with a wave of her hand. She then turns to look at Espérance once more. And then she speaks. "When your father told me that he was going abroad, I took it to mean, and said so to him, that I thought he was going to find your mother once more," the Duchess explains. "It was clear that even for her obviously aristocratic birth and bearing that she was no noble of Riverside, or of any of the duchies or baronies that are nearby. Not even, I think, even a noble of the rump remains of the old Ilsig Empire." "I think... that may be so," Espérance said cautiously. "He told me otherwise, that he could not and was not trying to find her. He believed, Espérance, that she was from an even more distant place, one that would be difficult to reach indeed. She had come, he told me, a long way to find him." At this point, Thomas has finished laying out morning victuals. "Pour two cups of tea, Thomas, and then you may withdraw," the Duchess tells him. As soon as he does so, she takes her cup, finishes preparing it with lemon and sugar and takes a sip, regarding the swordswoman. "What did she have to say to you?" she asks. Espérance takes a sip of her own tea, which she drinks black, then says, "In part, more or less what you just said. She called herself 'Queen Mother of the Courts of Chaos' -- which almost sounds more like a metaphor than a place," she notes wryly. The Duchess nods at this intuition but does not speak, letting the swordswoman continue to speak. "But she also said I would have to travel beyond my world, to find her. And that my father holds a token that may prove my heritage." "It sounds dreadfully esoteric to me. It reminds me of stories of demons and angels and things from under the hill." The Duchess says, taking a sip of her tea. "Like something out of a ballad," Espérance agrees. "I don't know that I'd have believed it myself if it weren't for ... the nature of the message." She is thinking of the stone, but doesn't elaborate for the present. "Still..." [The Duchess] looks thoughtful for a moment after Espérance's response."Even given the strange nature of your mother...I would say to you that finding your father, even if she did not suggest it for her own reasons, would be a good step and I would have urged you to do so if at all possible anyway." Espérance says nothing, but she wonders now how long the Duchess has been waiting for her to ask. [The Duchess] rises, walks to one of the covered platters, and opens it, revealing a cuboid-shaped piece of puff pastry. "Pain au chocolate. I decided to be indulgent today," The Duchess explains, slicing herself a piece off of the loaf. "Would you like a piece? We should finish breaking our fast before I pull out the folio of maps so that I can show you where your father went," the Duchess explains. "Please," says Espérance, meaning both the confection and the maps. The Duchess nods, and slices off a second piece of the chocolate-infiltrated bread for Espérance. She herself returns to her seat and eats her bread with a knife and fork, between sips of tea. Espérance doesn't go so far as to use a knife and fork on a slice of bread, but just nibbles it from her hand. And so breakfast passes. Once she, and Espérance, are done, the Duchess tugs on a bell pull. Thomas' response is, as Espérance might expect, swift. "Thomas, clear this all away." the Duchess says, rising. "Espérance and I will be in the library, and not to be disturbed." "Very good, milady." Thomas bows his head and moves forward to clean up the dishes as the Duchess rises and motions for Espérance to follow her. Thus, the swordswoman is led to the spacious and well stocked library of the Duchess Tremontaine. Without hesitation, the Duchess strides to one of the bookcases and pulls out a large, oversized book which she brings to a nearby table and opens it. Inside is a treasure of maps. Her host flips through a number of maps of areas near and far, from a map of Riverside through maps of the region. Finally, she comes to a map of a large triangular land. Water...seas border it to the east, west and south, and the map indicates a wide belt of mountains to the north and northwest. "This is Aveshq." the Duchess explains. "A teeming, tropical, distant land far to the southeast. It's sometimes called the land of a Million Gods thanks to its polytheistic religion. It's composed of potentates, city states and small empires of many kinds." "In the jungles and deserts that make up Aveshq are said to be many lost wonders, Espérance. Some of the spices that the wealthy of Riverside favor come from here, or even further beyond. There are a few trading colonies and outposts along the coasts." Her slim finger indicates a few marked cities, mostly on the southwestern coast. "Your father decided to go exploring and adventuring in this land, and made the long journey there." she finishes. "I understand that he is there still." "Strange," says Espérance. "From anything I've ever heard about him, that's not the sort of place I'd have expected him to go. I'd expect him to be... well, with your uncle. The Mad Duke," she adds with only a trifle of hesitation, then continues, "And from anything I've ever heard about =him,= his only use for the tropics would be to find a sunny beach somewhere, and sit about sipping drinks with fruit on sticks." "Now that is a salient point you bring up, Espérance," the Duchess replies, after the swordswoman's answer. She glances down at the map, and then back up at Espérance. "My decidedly eccentric Uncle is known for his obsessions, its true. "Why, do you suspect, that your father's business intersects with his?" "I never got the impression that what was between those two was exactly... business," Espérance notes dryly. "Still, he was a scholar of sorts -- your uncle, that is. I suppose if something roused his curiosity... perhaps he might go seeking lost wonders, at that. And St. Vier wouldn't let him go alone." The Duchess gives a nod of the head at Espérance's response. "The fact that the two of them have had a..." She looks thoughtful for a moment "complicated relationship cannot be denied. You are right, though." She glances at the map for a long moment as if it were an oracle, and then looks at Espérance. "Damil hasn't been around as of late. I half expected him to be on yet another of his endless Grand Ellipses, halfway between Bardonecchia and Modane at this point. You might have the right of it, and the two of them are off *together* in Aveshq." Espérance nods and queries, "You've had letters?" "From each of them separately, yes." The Duchess replies. "It makes me wonder that they are going to such pains, if they are truly off together in the tropics. I think I shall engage you directly to find them." the Duchess adds. "Very well," Espérance agrees. "When you do find your father, Espérance," the Duchess adds, "you can tell the two of them that the Duke had better come back to Riverside soon before they try and declare him dead again." Espérance chuckles. "What, do you think he'd miss out on the exquisite pleasure of attending his own funeral... again?" "Well, there is that." The Duchess returns the chuckle with a smile. "The way they are going about this, I would prefer that he be able to attend another funeral of us, rather than missing it." Espérance arches an eyebrow at her. "'Us'?" The Duchess blushes slightly. "His. I meant to say another funeral of his, of course." she says in a tone of voice which is not entirely convincing. "I've never had to simulate a funeral of myself. What an absurd and nearly bourgeois notion, Espérance, fit only for those who have strange and unusual adventures. I never fit into that category, not even in my youth." And then the swordswoman catches the briefest of winks. "Of course not, Your Grace," Espérance replies, deadpan; but amusement flickers in her grey eyes. "Well, then," the Duchess says briskly. "I'll see to getting you passage on a ship bound for Panaji. I assume you would prefer a ship to the long overland route, given that you will likely be doing walking enough once you get to port?" she enquires. "Yes, I think so," says Espérance, "but I'll need passage for two. Three, if you count Hugo," she adds, with a fond glance at the big dog. Then she goes on to explain, "The messenger from my mother will be accompanying me." Hugo gives the Duchess a relatively intelligent look, for Hugo, anyway. Espérance's hostess gives a thoughtful look. "Of course, I should have suspected that your mother would want to insure your safe arrival by having the messenger return with you." "Or my arrival, period," hazards Espérance. "He evidently knows the way, or at least has some idea of how to reach her. I don't." The Duchess gives a nod and then continues. "And I already mentally added Hugo in with you. I couldn't imagine you leaving him behind for a journey to your father, to say nothing of your mother." "No." "Passage for three will prove to be not much more difficulty than one," she says with a smile. "Is there anything else you need, Espérance?" she adds. Espérance sighs out a long, thoughtful breath. "Your good wishes, I suppose ... and farewells." She gives the Duchess a level look. "I don't know that I'll be coming back, Your Grace. But I think you guessed that, too." "I wondered, during our conversation, when you would get to that. You would have disappointed me if you didn't say it directly. The circumlocutions of nobility were and are never for you," the Duchess says. She sidles over and puts her hands, palms downward, on Espérance's shoulders. "Some words of advice then, on this our parting. "Just remember that no matter where this mysterious mother of yours lives, or whatever life she thrusts you into, you are who you are, Espérance. Keep true to yourself, and I think you can handle anything. You're the pride of Riverside, and never forget it. Don't forget where you came from, and you will always have a guide to where you are going." She smiles. Espérance lays her hands on top of the Duchess's and squeezes them gently. "Always a Riverside brat at heart," she confirms, with the slightest of smiles. "That should keep me from getting too big for my boots, wherever I go. Thank you, Your Grace. You take care, too. Keep working on that time-thrust ... you almost had it the last time." "Perhaps..." the Duchess ventures, withdrawing her hands and giving a nod of the head. "Perhaps, if you return before age erodes my skills, you will see for yourself if I manage to finally learn the maneuver. It shall be more difficult, without such a paragon as you as an inspiration to perfect it. "Of course," the Duchess adds dryly, "if another heptagram of masked men were to try to attack me again, I might need to find such inspiration at very short notice." Espérance's eyes narrow speculatively. "Did you ever find out who was behind that? If not... Well, it isn't as if Huttner -- that's the messenger -- showed up immediately after they did, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to ask him if anyone might have followed him here. Or preceded him." "I think it would be worthwhile to ask if he knows more of it," the Duchess agrees. "The masked men's arrival certainly was precipitous, and questioning the survivor was singularly...unfruitful. Having someone seeking you here from a long journey from your mother some time later...it's at the very least a coincidence." "A long journey, yes..." muses Espérance. "Was the questioning unfruitful, by the way, because he wouldn't talk... or because he didn't do so intelligibly?" "The latter," the Duchess confirms. "Hm." "As for the coincidence does occur in this world, Espérance," the Duchess adds. "However, it's not *quite* as common as people think. I trust that you will send me back word if this Huttner does have information on the matter?" "I shall certainly do so," says Espérance, rising. "But now, perhaps, I should be getting back to make my preparations. I'll have to speak to Huttner anyway and tell him of the arrangements being made. I can ask him about the masked men at the same time. Did the one we captured have any distinguishing features by which he might be recognized?" "Yes," the Duchess replies. "As a matter of fact he did. "Aside from the eyes, which were a peculiar shimmering grey color, the masked man also had a peculiar tattoo on his shoulder. It was of an obelisk done in blue with some red, maybe orange in it. The tattoo looked sort of like the big tall sandstone thing that old Duke Morton brought from Thebes and stuck in his garden." Espérance nods. She's seen the object herself. "On the thought that the masked assassins were from Thebes, I tracked down a scholar fluent in the language and brought him in to try and translate for the assassin. That turned out to be a dead end." The Duchess shrugs. "More and more curious. Could you draw the tattoo, Your Grace? It doesn't sound like anything I've seen before -- apart from Duke Morton's garden ornament -- and it just might be worthwhile to show it to Huttner. At any rate, it can't hurt." "I'm not much of an artist." The Duchess says with a somewhat rueful tone. "Still, its a simple enough request." The Duchess briskly and efficiently obtains a piece of parchment and a sharpened pencil and returns to the table. With simple, efficient, journeyman strokes, an image of a pyramid topped column comes to life on the page. "Although I don't remember the exact symbols," the Duchess says, "there seemed to be some sort of writing here." Her pencil indicates the long columnar portion of the drawing. "That should do for Huttner's purposes, though." "If he's ever seen such a thing as a tattoo, that should recall it to his mind," agrees Espérance. "Mostly in blue, you say?" The Duchess nods. "Yes, with a contrasting anti-color as highlight." Espérance folds up the parchment and tucks it into a pocket. "I'll let you know what Huttner says," she promises. Duchess smiles. "Do that. Even if their tales are truly twined in pursuit of you, they attacked *me*. I would like an understanding, especially if they should return. Too often, Espérance, it's easier to strike others in order to injure someone more difficult to wound." "As family history tells us," Espérance agrees wryly. "And now I will leave you to your preparations, and I to mine," the Duchess finishes. "Thomas," she calls aloud with a slight turn of the head to the servant who has appeared with preternatural speed and with a bow. "Please see our good friend to the door." The Duchess blinks away what might be a tear in her eyes, and steps back from Espérance with a smile. "Take care, Your Grace," says Espérance, bowing; then, after waiting for Hugo to return to her side, she strides out the door. The Duchess continues to give Espérance the smile as she, and Hugo, leave her presence, and by turns depart the Tremontaine estate, and head back to the modesty of her quarters. Backlinks |
