Strange Bedfelllows | StrangeBedfellows / SailOnSailOn browse

Sail On Sail On

Hugo, appreciative of the attention, shows no signs of agitation or anything that suggests that he has detected anything amiss with the crew or officers.

The ship is now lit by lanterns, the third watch now going about their duties.

All is otherwise quiet on the White Maiden.

"Heigh-ho!" says Espérance. "I'm for bed!"

And so the night passes.

Over the next few days, a week, even, Espérance finds herself integrating into the ebb and flow of ship life. There is a rhythm, a pattern to daily activities and tasks that someone with her keen eye and sense of order can see. Duties occur at regular times, sailors have rotating tasks but on such a schedule that Espérance can soon predict when Cambias decides to slack off rigging work for a while, or Hamzah has time and opportunity to spar with her, or when the ever-busy midshipmen, Magnus and Christoffer, find a moment to relax.

She makes sure that her own activities, which include a variety of exercise to keep herself in trim and observation of the lands that the river traverses, do not interfere with the work of the crew.

Fortunately, there are down periods in large enough areas that she does not seem to interfere with the day to day operations, and yet still remain in shape.

Her music is appreciated by the sailors, whenever she brings out her flute. Even if not formally trained, above and beyond its merits, also her music has the advantage and charm of novelty.

She is also quick at picking up the sailors' own tunes -- those that she wasn't previously familiar with -- and improvising accompaniments.

Many of the tunes are vaguely familiar from ones she has heard in Riverside and points downriver. There are threads of more exotic songs, though, that are completely unfamiliar to her, and as well, in the way that sailors borrow much, some of these motifs have found their way into their more familiar songs.

And so Espérance, and, independently, Huttner, have time to put their plans in motion. A discussion with Hamzah, for example, in his quarters , after a bout with her against him and his war fan (a fight Espérance wins, but with far more difficulty than just sword to sword), allows her to query him about the Doctor. Hamzah admits that he had never met the Doctor in Aveshq, and in fact, the Doctor did NOT join the crew in Aveshq at all, but rather in Akhiqar, on the far side of the sea from Niejwein. The Doctor, and the Captain, claimed that each knew the other from a long time ago, and he joined the crew at that point.

Magnus confirms this story, and adds a further, intriguing tidbit, that the honor of serving the Captain's table was a rotating and prized thing (since the server would get leftovers), but ever since the Doctor joined the crew, the position has been restricted to Samuel and Samuel alone.

"Is that so? What's Samuel got that you haven't got?" queries Espérance, in a deliberately light, chaffing tone."A mouth that is good for him kneeling and..." Magnus says, before Christofer hushes him with a punch to the shoulder.

"No wonder they're interested in the Mad Duke," Espérance notes dryly to Huttner, later.

Dinners with the Captain and the Doctor are at a more subdued level in the next few days, although Hugo still is uncomfortable around the Doctor and the Captain. The food is good and topics of the conversation mostly remain light and Espérance is not pressed hard, although stories of her exploits are eagerly requested. She obliges with a selection of these, usually ones that have points of interest apart from her own skill, and that don't violate her professional ethics of confidentiality. Since in Riverside the clash of hired swords is often a deliberately public (not to say staged) spectacle, this isn't too difficult.

And so it is one early morning that, after a bend in the river, comes the gothic impressiveness of the City at the Sea, Niejwein.

"And now we see if we have enemies in wait." Huttner murmurs, watching the city slowly approach. "What's the plan?" "We don't cower aboard ship, for certain," says Espérance. "How skilled are you at detecting a tail?"

Huttner grins slightly. "Being situationally aware is a survival trait in the Courts, especially in the less savory places, such as Lowtown." He looks at Espérance. "Demon-country. Buy and sell anything, rough place. It pays to have eyes in the back of your head."

Espérance grins back. "Sounds like a place a Riversider would feel right at home," she notes.

"Yes. Although your mother would Disapprove." Huttner opines.

He pauses a beat. "In this case, I promise to keep those eyes metaphorical ones rather than a real one. You were hoping to draw their attention by being visible in the city?"

"Indeed. Draw them out, so to speak, get a look at them... and possibly get our hands on one, though that might be tricky without backup. And I'm not sure what we'd do with him afterwards.""If we catch one." Huttner's eyes glow with an unnatural light. "then after determining what they know, his intent to harm the daughter of Duchess Dara Sawall, and the half-sister of his Majesty Emperor Merlin I, is a capital offense." "That's assuming the intent to harm," Espérance points out. "If we find that any follower we catch is connected to these Jesbys, of course..."

Huttner says. "In that case we will then take care of them. Quietly." Huttner says. He looks at Espérance. "You do see the danger in leaving one alive, if we catch one of them?" "Of course. The less our enemies know that we know, the better off we are," says Espérance. "I was thinking more of not wanting a dead body on our hands." She looks wry. "That's not something I've had to worry about very often, I admit. It's sometimes my job to make somebody dead, but making them disappear is something else again." Huttner hmms in thought. "Well, there are methods of disposal that might tip our hand unnecessarily, and we would want to avoid if at all possible. Although I think it might be wishful thinking on my part to imagine that the Jesby's are unaware of my presence. So suffice it to say that a body might be sent...elsewhere."

Espérance ponders for a few moments. "That would probably be good enough for the Niejweiners, anyway. The Jesbys...? If they can come here from the same place you did, I suppose they might be able to trace your sending a body elsewhere. The question is, would we want them to find it?"

"Depends on the message we are sending and how the encounter proceeds. As you already said." Huttner says.

"True... and the latter will affect the former," notes Espérance.

"Our advantage here in this world, though, may be that they cannot fathom just why I haven't started traversing shadow with you yet." Huttner says. "It's like playing a game of Gateway, but keeping your pieces only on one tier. It must confuse them." "'Gateway'?" inquires Espérance. "Gateway" Huttner confirms. "It is a game, a training tool, used in Sawall, its vassals and one or two of the other Great Houses." he explains. "I think a watered down shadow of it exists here..." Huttner looks thoughtful. "Chess." Huttner says after a pause.

Espérance nods. "Chess, I know."

"Gateway and its variants have a more complex board and more complex strategies." he continues. "It's used to teach strategic and tactical thinking, forethought and planning."

"Are the Jesbys familiar with this game also?" Espérance asks him, arching a brow. "And therefore used to thinking on more than one level?" "They've heard of it, certainly." Huttner says. "Save for some of the more secretive things, Houses are relatively familiar with the customs and notable advantages of others. The strange sexual practices of the Minobee. The Library in House Chanicut. The customs of battle in Hendrake and its vassals. So, yes, the Jesby certainly know of Gateway, but they are not a House that uses it as Sawall does."

A distinctly feral grin curves Espérance's mouth. "They may have cause to regret the lapse."

"No." Huttner says. "Jesbys are incorporators, always seeking to make other Houses, other people, absorbed into themselves. Oh, and they have an arcane system of bowing as a device to indicate rank and attitude." Huttner adds. "Not that I expect much bowing to either of us."

"I can do without it," says Espérance with a shrug. "Though if they're busy bowing, they're not looking overhead, and that's all to the good as far as we're concerned."

"All to the good." Huttner agrees. "And now, unless I miss my mark..." Huttner points to a series of quays and docks. Around them, with the crew busily at work, preparations for pulling up to one of them are clearly in motion. In short order, the ship starts sliding toward one of the stone abutments into the river.

Huttner leans over the gunwale, hands gripping it as he looks at the quay and the dockworkers waiting the ship's arrival. "No obvious signs of the Jesbys, Espérance." he says. "We'll get off the ship unmolested at the least."

"Good," says Espérance, while she makes her own inspection of the approaching quay and riverbank. "I look forward to stretching my legs a bit." She glances around to make sure Hugo is with them.

Hugo has two paws on a nearby barrel, using it as a prop to intently and silently watch the docks, in a manner analogous to Huttner's. However, he does turn at Espérance's glance and gives a short swish of his tail.

"We'll stroll, first," she decides, "have a look around the outdoor markets and see the sights. If after a while we don't pick up anyone, we'll find a likely-looking tavern, for a drink and the latest news." "And possibly pick up a tail afterwards." Huttner says wryly.

"That's the idea," says Espérance, with her slow smile.

In short order the ship slows to a stop, anchor is dropped, and the White Maiden has officially made port in Niejwein. The first mate, Pridus, comes strolling up to Espérance, Huttner and Hugo.

"Here are our esteemed passengers." he says with a smile. "I suspect that a little shore leave might be in order, even if we've only been away from the land for a few days." Pridus looks to the east and then at the gangplank being lowered to the quay before looking back at Espérance and her companions.

"The Captain says we're going to stay here until the afternoon tide, so you have time to see the city, have luncheon, a drink, or whatever you wish. Be back on the ship by the second bell after noon." Espérance nods. "Those were more or less our plans," she informs the first mate. "Will any of our shipmates be joining us?"

Pridus gives a nod. "Shortly, the lots will be chosen to decide which third of the ship's crew will get leave. Can't have *all* of the crew leave, of course."

"The officers go off on a set rotation. I, for example, lady Espérance, am not due for leave until we reach the far side of the sea." Pridus explains.

"So who is due this time?" Huttner asks.

"No one, actually." Pridus says after a moment's hesitation "The officers are content to wait until we reach the really interesting ports." "Does 'no one' include the Captain and Doctor Altair?" inquires Espérance, making it sound like an idle, just-making-conversation query. Pridus gives a short nod. "They typically reserve their leave to choice ports deep on the routes. At least, as much as business allows. Sometimes the Captain needs to deal with potentates and the powers-that-be, no matter how much he might want to delegate."

"Niejwein is a pretty placid and lawful port, however." Pridus says.

"That's good to know," says Espérance. Though she doesn't say so out loud to Pridus, she is thinking that this will make the Jesbys, if they're here, stand out all the more.

"Enjoy your trip." Pridus says mildly. "See you soon." Espérance turns to Huttner. "Shall we go, then?" "Absolutely." Huttner says. "It will be good to have a city around me again, even if only for a few hours."

"I know what you mean," says Espérance, then adds with a grin, "Rigging is all very well, but rooftops are better."

Huttner heads toward the now-lowered gangplank, waiting for Espérance, and of course, Hugo. The latter adroitly trots down the gangplank behind Espérance, even as she can hear some of the sailors in the background prepare to choose lots, as Pridus mentioned.

"Right. Markets first? How well do you know this city's layout?" Huttner asks, once Espérance and Hugo are on the quay with him.

Espérance reaches the foot of the gangplank and looks around. "I've never been here myself, but I've talked with people who have," she replies. "As you might expect, the major market square isn't too far from the docks. If we head inland and upriver, we should find it in short order. Downriver is the warehouse district."

She scans for streets running the way they want to go, as well as for possibly suspicious passersby, at the same time remaining aware of Hugo's reactions.

The streets in the direction of the market, upriver and away from the docks, have the usual collection of people one might expect to see: Stolid burghers heading to and from the market. Red capped soldiers of the Duchy maintaining order and peace. A small group of sailors from another ship, carousing and heading toward a nearby watering hole.

No one to her sight, and not to Hugo and Huttner's reactions, immediately suggests anyone with a suspicious or hostile nature. The opening trip up to the market seems quiet enough for the trio to make their way on cobblestone paved ways through the city.

In point of fact, things are quiet as the market is reached. Espérance's directions are accurate, the large square, bounded on one side by a tall, spired church, is full of stalls and carts, along with the sellers hawking their wares, and the patrons seeking to purchase them. It is exactly when Huttner is looking at a display of amber and silver jewelry that Espérance notices that Hugo has quickly become very tense and protective. There is no one in the immediate vicinity that seems to suggest anything amiss, but her companion's reaction is unmistakable.

Espérance lays what looks like a casual hand on Huttner's arm, giving it an unobtrusive, sharp squeeze to put him on the alert. "I'm going to step across the square to look at that display of scarves," she tells him, choosing a stall colorful enough to be spotted from a distance, and also one located near the entrance to a side street.

"Enjoy yourself" Huttner says, his voice clearly pitched for the benefit of anyone nearby listening in. She signals Hugo to accompany her as she heads across the square. She is on the alert, and assumes Huttner will be also, for anyone who appears to be following her progress. Her unhurried saunter conceals a readiness to draw her sword instantly should it be needed.

A couple of stalls and displays later, Espérance has lost herself in the throng of displays. The promised colorful display of woolen scarves stands out from its drabber brethren as a parrot might stand out amongst a flock of pigeons. Hugo pads along, his head swinging slightly back and forth, taking everything in with a wary eye. Its not until Espérance is halfway to the display that a figure, in a uniform similar to the ducal soldiers, but in a deep blue, starts to shadow her more directly. A few more paces, and Espérance can see one more of these 'soldiers' is loitering right to the side of the scarf display that is now fully in view.

=Only two?= thinks Espérance. That hardly seems a challenge. Quickly she scans the crowd for more of these boys in blue, while she continues to saunter toward the scarf display. At the same time she wonders if they're unwary enough to follow her into the side street she's picked out.

Surprisingly, there does not appear to be more than this pair visible. What conclusions that can be drawn from this is up to Espérance.

As she approaches the scarf display, she looks for one that will be near in color to the uniforms of the 'soldiers'. If Huttner hasn't spotted the tail already, handling that scarf may help to tip him off.

There are plenty of scarves in the display, mainly in the red and rust tones that are common colors in the city. There are a selection of other scarves, though, ranging from a distressed yellow to, a forest green. Providentially, though, almost as if manifested because she thought about it, Espérance finally spots a lone blue scarf to handle and possibly signal Huttner if it tips him off. The 'soldier' loitering near to the booth is making a overly studious effort *not* to notice Espérance. Hugo's reaction, though, is a muted but definite bristling, and he keeps himself firmly between the soldier, and Espérance.

As the other soldier (and there still seem to be only two) slowly moves toward Espérance and the booth, she can see that Huttner catches a glimpse of Espérance's peculiar color choice, in the midst of the other scarves. With a purpose begins making his way across the square with purpose, his head occasionally obscured as he maneuvers between stalls and carts.

"I should think." the soldier loitering near the booth finally speaks aloud, as if to the air "that all things considered, black and silver would be more your colors. Aren't they?"

Espérance gives him a look. "I've never been partial to them," she disclaims. "If there's a family color, it's probably brown." "Brown. No, you would not appear well in Brown." the soldier shakes his head in disagreement. His hand casually sits against his hip, and just so casually moves a millimeter toward the hilt of his short blade. Its a hostile move, but a very subtle one that someone less observant than Espérance might have missed.

"My friends and I are really here to help you." the soldier says.There is a lulling and somnolent tone to his voice. Even Hugo seems less hostile as the soldier continues to speak.

The second soldier is now openly crossing the distance toward the scarf display. Huttner is hustling to try and catch up.

"You have been abandoned in this nameless place, left in squalor. You could be so much more." the soldier says. "You have a Destiny."

"Why not let us show you what you really can be?" he adds with all the reasonableness his voice can muster.

"I don't think you have the least idea of what I am now," retorts Espérance -- now less than a millimeter, figuratively speaking, from drawing her own considerably longer blade. Though she doesn't look in the direction of the approaching soldier, she is tracking him along with the nearer one and mentally calculating how quickly she could disable both of them.

The tracking and examination gives Espérance a chance to assess the opposition. Its difficult to get an exact level without actually seeing them in combat, of course, but their bearing and stance do not seem to suggest that either of them are superb combatants. Disabling both of them, especially given her advantage in blade length, should be relatively easy and quick, much faster than the constabulary could arrive, for instance.

The soldier's hand recognizes's Espérance's hand and slowly moves back his hand back a millimeter, giving up that advantage.

"You are an abandoned fosterling, with talents and abilities far beyond anyone here." he hisses. "You will come with me and my friends now." His hand moves back to the hilt. "Be reasonable."

The man behind Espérance is now only a couple of yards away. He stops in his tracks at this point, and Espérance feels an unnatural chill. As she does so, Hugo gives off a growl, in the direction of the second soldier, seemingly ready to spring with or without Espérance's command.

"You and your friend haven't yet given me a reason to do anything you suggest," says Espérance. "I will give you one chance to back off and stop doing whatever it is that's upsetting my dog, before you get a demonstration of the 'talents and abilities' that go with the name of St. Vier."

"It may be that your hound is unused to those who have spent their lives in the realm of your birth." the second soldier now speaks aloud. He halts, a yard and a half away from Espérance and the first soldier.

The first soldier picks up from the second soldier's answer. "If you not see reason by means of simple persuasion and logic, then you will have to be shown, directly. Perhaps that will end your stubbornness."

There is a crackle of the air and the smell of the air after a thunderstorm, coming not from either of these soldiers or Hutter, but from somewhere and somebody else in the market, unseen. Both soldiers now are starting to draw their blades.

"Espérance!" Huttner shouts in the form of a warning. Hugo looks a little confused, a little uncertain who to attack, and so defers his response to Espérance's lead.

With the drawing of weapons against her, any hesitation Espérance has shown vanishes. In a move almost too quick to follow, her blade is out and a killing stroke aimed at the first soldier. Two opponents coming from opposite directions means that one must be dealt with immediately; the other may be lucky enough to be disabled (and captured) rather than killed.

As she attacks, Espérance calls out to Huttner, "Find the third one!"

With Espérance's choice made, things happen quickly. Hugo is a streak of canine fury as he moves to engage the second soldier. What Huttner does in response to Espérance's command is unclear, for at that point she is fully engaged in deadly combat with the first soldier.

The killing stroke does not land. Although she has a longer blade, and is at the very least on par with the first soldier, he is fast enough to backpedal. The tip of her sword slices his shirt, where his sternum was but a moment before.

With eyes bright, the first soldier then moves in fluidly after the passing of the blade,sword held high in his right, trying to get within Espérance's sword length so that his shorter weapon becomes an asset, rather than a liability.

Espérance fades back just enough to render this ploy ineffective before pressing her attack again. She capitalizes on the advantage her longer blade gives her, keeping her opponent at arm's length with a lightning series of blocks and feints while she seeks an opening. Once she finds it, she will show no mercy. While she studies her opponent's moves and style, she retains peripheral awareness of what is going on around them.

The soldier moves fast enough that Espérance's fade and attacks manages to catch him off guard and she manages a wound, and a near-impalement from his rush to close the distance.

The tension is set up, with Espérance fighting to keep her opponent at arm's length with feints, blocks and attempts at an opening, and her opponent trying to get within her range to score hits with his shorter blade. His style is fast, impetuous and bold, as witness his near impalement moments ago. As the fight sets up into the rhythm, though, Espérance has a chance to have at least a sidelong awareness of what is happening.

After a minute more of fighting, Espérance finally divines the secret of her opponent's style. The end comes quickly, suddenly and without mercy, as a double feint fools the soldier long enough for Espérance to perforate her opponent's lung, and then his heart. He gurgles, drops his short blade, and sinks to the ground.

Espérance only has a scratch on her hand for her pains.

Item: The marketplace has cleared around them. Vendors, patrons and others have cleared out of the area of the fight. There is as yet no evidence of the duchy's constabulary.

Item: Hugo has the second soldier on the ground, growling and keeping him contained.

Item: Huttner is nowhere to be seen.

After a glance around to confirm these items in her mental inventory, Espérance stoops briefly over the body to confirm its condition, secure his weapon (since he won't be needing it anymore), and at the same time to wipe her blade on his clothing.

One thing Espérance notices now, now that she has the time to focus, is that the blood of the man in the uniform is not quite the right shade of red. The blood has a little blue mixed in with the red, giving a few notches of shade toward purple.

And strange blood or not, he is very very dead.

 Then she strides over to where Hugo has the second

soldier pinned down.

"Your companion is dead," she informs him coolly. "Are you going to be cooperative and tell me what I want to know, or would you rather join him?" She asks this with about the same show of emotion as a hostess might use when inquiring, "Tea or coffee?"

As counterpoint to Espérance's reasonableness, Hugo gives the pinned soldier a menacing growl.

"On the promise of my life." the man says, as if it were a formula. His head turns slightly to regard Espérance with light green eyes.

"I will answer your questions to the fullest extent of my capabilities. Do we have a bargain?"

"I secure your weapons," Espérance counters, "then promise not to kill you, and then you answer my questions." She holds his gaze to see if he agrees.

Eyes that are a slightly too-bright shade of green return Espérance's gaze, as much as he can with the looming and menacing Hugo on his chest, anyway. The latter gives a growl almost on cue.

"We...have a bargain On my word as Acestes Jesby" he sputters with obvious reluctance.

Acestes pauses a moment and then continues "In addition to my sword, I have a pugio in my right boot."

Espérance moves to secure the sword, the boot weapon, and while she is at it she checks the more usual other locations for holdout weapons.

The man does appear to have been dissembling. Another small dagger similar to the one in the boot is located in a sheath connected to his belt in the small of his back.

"A trifle forgetful today, are we?" Espérance says dryly as she removes this dagger too and dangles it briefly in front of Acestes.

Acestes looks away from the dagger, with a glowering look saved for the ground rather than his captor.

Hugo returns to pinning his legs once Espérance is finished searching the man.

Once reasonably certain that her enemy is disarmed, she says, "All right, let's talk. First, how many in your party, and where are the others?"

"You have slain Turnus." he says, his voice as neutral as Acestes can seem to manage. "Amata is our sorceress, I suspect that your ally is tangling with her, since our magical support is not forthcoming. Juturna is in the house that we are holding in this city."

"The others are in the southern city that borders this body of water." Acestes says.

"That would be Akhiqar, I would guess," muses Espérance. "How many others?"

"Around twenty, I would suppose." Acestes says with obvious reluctance. "Unless reinforcements are obtained from our gate-spell. Akhiqar is the intended jumping off point to bringing you back to our House."

"They will yet capture you." he adds. "Even if we four have thus failed."

"We'll see about that," says Espérance in a neutral tone. "Right now, we're going to find Huttner and your sorceress friend."

While Hugo continues to guard Acestes, Espérance salvages a scarf or two from the display. "Up," she tells the man then, "and hands behind your back."

Acestes puts his arms behind his back as soon as he rises. Espérance can just manage to start to bind his arms with a retrieved scarf when a group of six men in livery--ducal livery, enter the square. The rest of the square is still relatively clear of civilians, although they are slowly coming to investigate the results of the fracas.

"What transpires here?" the leader of the redcapped men, with drawn swords, demands.

Hugo does not growl, but moves closer toward Espérance

"Milords!" Acestes shouts "Thank the Duke you have come! This woman has gone mad and slain my friend and seeks to kidnap me for unknown purpose!"

Espérance looks at Acestes. "That's an interesting story you've concocted," she notes calmly, speaking to him but sufficiently loudly that the Duke's men can easily hear her too. "How unfortunate for you that I met the Duke when he visited Duchess Tremontaine last year. I wonder which one of us he's going to believe?"

A trace of doubt and uncertainty crosses Acestes as he tries to decide if Espérance is bluffing, or if she really is on familiar terms with the Duke of the city.

Espérance's cool demeanor and relaxed stance give him no reason to think she's lying.

She turns to the liveried men and addresses the one with the most gold braid on his jacket. "I am Espérance St. Vier," she says, "and I am currently on a mission for Her Grace -- which this man and his allies are attempting to interfere with. Captain Clarion of the White Maiden should be able to confirm that the Duchess arranged for my passage to Panaji."

"St. Vier, St. Vier" The men talk amongst themselves for a few moments.

"I think I've heard of an Espérance" one of the guards says. "Swordswoman from up in Riverside, works for the Duchess. Known for having a big dog too." he glances at Hugo.

Espérance bows slightly in acknowledgement. "My reputation precedes me," she notes.

"That doesn't mean she isn't a villain!" Acestes protests.

The head of the guard sighs and levels his sword in the direction of Espérance and Acestes...but much more so, Acestes. He looks over his shoulder. "Corporal Van Valzak, go down to the docks and see if this White Maiden is there and if Captain Clarion is taking Miss St. Vier here to Panaji on the word of the Duchess." The soldier takes off like a shot back toward the river.

"In the meantime." the squad commander says. "We're all going to the Barbican. I think his Grace would like to know why blood is being spilled in the streets. Although..." he looks at the corpse that Acestes named as Turnus and then back at Espérance. "If the one you killed is half as annoying as this one, I can start to see why."

"He drew steel on me," explains Espérance, "which makes me doubt his wisdom in any case. I'll be happy to explain things to the Duke insofar as I can, but I'm also concerned for my other companion, a young man named Huttner, who I believe went to deal with another of these... outlanders." The hesitation is just enough to suggest that a more opprobrious epithet was considered and rejected.

"Right. We must needs take you to the Barbican anyway, but if you describe your companion to us, I'll see to finding him, Miss St. Vier." The commander then looks at his men and points at two of them. "Offitt. Parker."

"Listen carefully to the description of Huttner, and go find him and the outlander..."

"But..." Acestes begins to interrupt.

"But nothing." the commander calmly says, cutting off Acestes. "If you are in the right, then we are *rescuing* your companion from Huttner. If you are in the wrong, his Grace would rather have all of you in the bird's net."

Acestes glumly shuts up.

The commander then looks back at Espérance expectantly.

Espérance gives the two guardsmen a recognizable description of Huttner, including the clothes he has on today. "You can tell him I asked him to accompany you," she tells them, "and give him -- hmmm -- this as a token." She reaches over, snags the blue scarf she previously used as a signal, and gives it to one of the guardsmen.

The guard indicated as Parker takes the blue scarf, with a slight doubtful look. The slightly grumbling glare the guard commander gives him gets Parker to wipe the look off of his face and he salutes his commander, and by extension, Espérance as well.

Then she turns back to the commander. "Whenever you're ready, sir." She signals Hugo to accompany her.

Hugo thumps his tail once and falls into line. Acestes looks at Hugo and opens his mouth to speak. Another glare from the commander gets him to forego the complaint that Acestes was likely to lodge.

"Ja." The commander says. "Let us be off."

And so, accompanied by the remaining guardsmen, Espérance and the group can make their way up the hill toward the Barbican.

The fortification and home of the Duke of Niejwein grew out of, Espérance will certainly remember, the former tower building to a previous castle. That castle was lost in a fire, and rather than rebuild it, the dukedom simply expanded the towered building into a brand new one, expanding it in all directions. Thus, as they climb the hill, the three-towered appearance of the Barbican may seem like it's a gigantic gate to an even bigger edifice, but in fact it IS the home of the Duke. A pennant flies in the breeze from the left (north) tower, with the coat of arms of the dukedom, a white stone castle on red, fluttering in the breeze.

(OOC: basically the same flag as used by vessels and non military installations of the Army Corps of Engineers )

Guards with halberds salute the commander, and without much difficulty the guard leads Espérance and Acestes to a small room. Both are bid to sit in chairs in the stone room, framed with a tapestry depicting an eagle fighting a dragon in midair.

Espérance takes a chair with an appearance of nonchalance and crosses one booted leg over the other.

A guard is sent off for the Duke, and the wait is not long before a large and familiar man with balding hair and a strong chin enters the room.

(Casting Call, Ray Winstone)

Acestes doesn't quite dart out of his chair as the Duke strides across the room toward Espérance and Acestes.

Espérance also rises from her chair and sweeps off her plumed hat as she bows to the Duke. "Your Grace."

Acestes' own bow is more stilted, more formal and definitely less comfortable than Espérance's own greeting of the Duke. The Duke regards Acestes warily, and then turns to look at Espérance.

"I believe." he says with a slight smile. "that I had welcomed you a visit to my city, should you ever find yourself down here, Miss St. Vier. I am not unpleased to see that you have taken me up on that offer. I am uncertain, however, that I meant for you to practice your skills on the streets to Niejwein as part of that invitation."

"That wasn't my intention either, Your Grace," says Espérance.

"I've heard my guards report of what has happened." the Duke continues. "I will now hear..." he looks from Espérance to Acestes. "both of yours."

Acestes clears his throat but stops at an only mildly withering glance from the Duke who comments dryly as he looks at Espérance with folded arms.

"Ladies first, of course."

Espérance accords him a slight bow of acknowledgement before she begins. "I will be interested to hear Mister Jesby's story, I admit," she says. "Mine is fairly simple. I am traveling to Panaji on a mission for Duchess Tremontaine. My traveling companion and I -- my companion is a young man by the name of Huttner -- came ashore today while the White Maiden awaits the afternoon tide. This man," she indicates Acestes with a tilt of her head, "and his companion accosted me in the marketplace and attempted to get me to come with them for some unspecified reason. I refused and warned them to back off. Instead they drew steel on me." She shrugs. "Maybe next time, he and the rest of them will know better than to try that on one of Riverside's best swords."

"His companion was the slain man." The Duke says, giving small nodding motions of the head as he considers Espérance's story for a few moments.

"And what do you have to say, then?" The Duke looks at Acestes. "For what possible reason did you and your companion accost Miss St. Vier? What excuse can you give?"

Acestes' eyes flicker back and forth between Espérance and the Duke. It seems to take some effort for him to focus on the Duke and not look at Espérance, or Hugo for that matter.

Finally he clears his throat.

"I can give a satisfactory reason, milord Duke." Acestes says. "This Espérance St. Vier is not who she has been posing. She is in truth the daughter of a noble of my land. The daughter of a noble house that is, in truth, in conflict with my own. It is my right under that feud to prosecute actions against her as a member of that house. My companions and I came here to prosecute that lawful feud. We attempted to remove her peacefully from your city, but she drew first blood and precipitated the deadly conflict which has plagued Niejwein. The truth is, she does not belong here."

The Duke barely contains a laugh and looks to Espérance for her response and reaction.

Espérance gives Acestes a thoughtful look, then says, "I've been given to understand, Your Grace, from other sources--" her emphasis on the last two words implies =more reliable ones= "--that at least some of what this man says is correct. The mother who left me in infancy apparently is a lady of rank in the place these Jesbys come from."

The Duke looks frankly surprised by the admission. Acestes' face is a bit of a look of triumph...

Then Espérance's grey eyes spark and she cracks out, "But I =am= the daughter of St. Vier. And though I may hire out my sword to prosecute other men's feuds, I have =never= carried the fight to one who had no knowledge of the game."

"Ignorance is no excuse." Acestes responds. "And you drew blood first, and fought to the death. You broke the peace of the city. The fault here, is your own."

"Fine." The Duke raises a hand. "We'll settle this, promptly. You admit that you Jesbys have a blood feud against her house?"

"Yes..." Acestes says.

"Good." The Duke says. "If Miss St. Vier is willing, you and she settle your feud in the yard here and now and be done with this mess, and the winner can leave my city with their party, with no more bloodshed within its boundaries, unless you would enjoy a personal relationship with the headman's axe."

The Duke regards Espérance for her response.

"I accept, Your Grace," she says at once.

"Good." The Duke seems pleased. He gestures for Acestes and Espérance (and Hugo) to rise and follow him out of the room.

Espérance signs to Hugo to attend her, and starts to follow the Duke.

"I..." Acestes begins, rising but not otherwise moving.

"Lest you wish to be labelled as Niðingr..." the Duke says. "the judicial duel will proceed, now."

A guard opens the door, and waits for the Duke. Acestes hesitates a moment more, and with an air of resignation begins to follow him. He offers Espérance a hateful glance that earns him a growl from Hugo.

Espérance meets Acestes' glance with a cool, you-asked-for-it look of her own. "Stay off him, Hugo," she warns the dog. "This is a duel."

Hugo stops his growling at Espérance's command.

A guard comes up and speaks quietly to the Duke as Espérance, Acestes and he stands in the doorway. The Duke nods, and then turns to look at Espérance.

"The White Maiden's Captain has confirmed that portion of the story, Miss St. Vier." The Duke says. "We are still looking for your partner..." and then he gives a glance at Acestes. "and yours."

"I don't know whether or not to hope they find each other first," says Espérance, frowning a little. "He also mentioned one more of his party in the city," she notes, looking toward Acestes.

Acestes gives Espérance a venomous look. The Duke has not stopped his motion toward the yard. He shakes his head at Acestes.

"All members of both of your parties will depart the city upon the conclusion of this duel." The Duke says firmly. "As far as the matter of Huttner and your ally..." He looks hard at Acestes.

"Amata" Acestes fills in, reluctantly.

"Amata, well, my guards orders are to break up any hostilities between the two of them. Sanctioned duels are one thing,. mayhem that hurts the citizenry of the dukedom are another."

Without much further ado, the Duke leads Espérance, Acestes and Hugo out of a side door. A pair of guards now flank the group in the front, and to the rear as well. The Duke stops his motion and gestures toward a flat smooth-sanded area bound by a ring.

"By the laws of Niejwein, the two of you will proceed to the ring, and, solely with blades, will settle the matter of your vendetta and dispute. The life of the loser will be forfeit and the vendetta ended with no prejudice on either side. As Duke of the city, I will be lawful witness to the results."

"Any questions?"

"Will matched blades be provided," queries Espérance, "or shall we just use our own?" She has participated in both sorts of duels in the past, and is prepared for either.

"A perceptive question." The Duke replies with a slight smile and a nod. "It is traditional in Niejwein for the combatants to use neutral matched blades of fixed length, to avoid accusations of treachery or the like."

Espérance nods comprehendingly. It's the sort of condition she is used to.

"What if the blade is not to the liking of the combatant or combatants." Acestes puts in.

"Then perhaps they should not be so quick as to engage in vendettas or feuds which mandate the shedding of blood." The Duke says slowly and patiently, as if educating a child.

One of the soldiers in the field approaches, carrying two blades wrapped in oil cloth. These are presented to the Duke, and the Duke unwraps them for Acestes and Espérance. The blades are long broadswords, basket hilted and just short of a meter long. Both are clean, new, and sharp looking. Espérance's experience with this kind of sword allows her to know that the sword is well designed for cuts as well as thrusts, and makes duels relatively short and bloody affairs, especially without armor.

Acestes does not say a word, but his expression shows his dislike for the size of the weapon, much more in the line of Espérance's blade than the short blade that the Jesbys seem to favor. Espérance inspects each of the blades in turn, hefting them and testing the balance to confirm they are well matched. The blades are very well matched, the smiths of Niejwein have taken pains to make the blades as close to identical as possible. They only really differ in the color of a stone in the hilt, likely there for balancing purposes.

Espérance nods her approval.

She offers Acestes the opportunity to do the same. Acestes waits a beat, and then replicates Espérance's own tests, hefting and testing both blades in a straightforward, if not desultory fashion. "They are identical to within a gram or two." he says quietly. "Remarkable precision for such a primitive veil as this world, don't you think?"

"We do our best," Espérance tells him dryly.

"I will choose this one." he adds, indicating the sword with the red carbuncle in the pommel, as opposed to the other, which has a similar carbuncle in green.

After unbuckling her own blade and giving it into the safekeeping of whoever seems to be senior among the guards, Espérance accepts the green-pommelled sword with aplomb. She proceeds to the ring and stands ready. Acestes turns over his weapons to the guard as well. Both the Duke and the guards move a little closer to the ring. Espérance enters first, and then Acestes, bearing the red stone blade.

At the far edge of the ring, which is to Espérance's eyes about 3 meters in diameter, Acestes stops and regards Espérance. Given the length of the blades, there will not be that much room to maneuver.

"I don't know the customs of duels here." he says. "The custom of the Jesby, however, is to bow before a duel, even to an enemy."

He then does bow, in a moderately perfunctory fashion. He then raises his sword, ready to begin.

"Our custom is to salute," replies Espérance, and sweeping the sword from her scabbard, she does so, swishing it through the air before also assuming the en garde position. Acestes watches the gesture intently, his eyes following Espérance's eyes, sword and feet as she does so.

"Begin" comes the command of the Duke, with a clap of his hands.

The Jesby responds immediately, slowly working his way around the circumference of the ring, seeking an opening in Espérance's defenses enough to make a play. It's clear to her that he is truly unfamiliar with the length of the weapon, and he is not placing himself quite as optimally as she might with the same maneuvering.

Espérance almost immediately goes on the offensive with an aggressive attack. She does not particularly want to kill Acestes, any more than she wanted to on the street. She would still like a chance to question him further. But neither does she wish to string out this duel with Huttner still missing, and the White Maiden ready to leave on the afternoon tide. Her object is to disarm or incapacitate her opponent, so that her victory will be clear without another death.

Unless, of course, he leaves her no choice...

Espérance's aggressive offense takes Acestes a little by surprise, and she even manages an early quick line on his off-hand before he pulls back into a more defensive posture. The reach that Espérance displays clearly cost him the early little wound. His skill, however, in reacting kept Espérance from an too-soon victory.

As she continues to press him, it becomes clear to her that Acestes is a better opponent than her last one. This improvement in skill is tempered by the unfamiliar long reach of the weapon to him, but not completely.

It takes much more of a workout for Espérance to finally pin him down, despite his fancy footwork, before she can start beating his blade away fast enough to respond with follow up strikes. In point of fact his footwork is definitely unorthodox, and perhaps she might learn a point or two from the experience.

Even while she concentrates on the duel, some part of her mind files away the unusual moves for further reference and practice.

She takes a couple of hand wounds in the process, and a line across her left shoulder as Acestes furiously tries to beat off the attack with counterattacks of his own. However, in the end, blood drips from a line on his forehead, and the momentary distraction is enough for her to get a follow up on his sword hand, causing him to drop and lose the blade.

Acestes' attempt to reach for the blade allows Espérance to level the blade at his heart. His hand still blindly groping for the weapon, his gaze rises to meet hers.

Espérance's cool grey eyes hold his. "Do you yield?" she asks him levelly. Her expression tells him that if he refuses, she's quite ready to finish the fight the other way, in the trademark St. Vier manner -- one clean thrust to the heart.

He considers it.

In the actual tick of a clock hand, its only a few seconds. However, as Espérance and Acestes regard each other, and the assembled guards and the Duke look on, the perception of time slows and narrows.

And after those ten seconds, he lowers his head and speaks in a low voice, low enough that probably only Espérance can hear.

"I, Acestes of House Jesby, yield to you, Espérance St. Vier, Darasdottir. I yield to you without reservation, to service, release, or imprisonment, if my life be spared."

Espérance nods, barely, in acknowledgement, and says, "As we agreed the first time, Acestes Jesby. But say it louder, so that the Duke and the marshals can hear you."

Acestes gulps and then in a much louder tone of voice. There is a clear accent of shame in his cadence, too, this time, as he repeats the terms of his yield. His eyes no longer can meet Espérance's.

"Good." The Duke says. He walks forward and regards the tableau. "By the rights and rules of trial by combat, I consider this matter and feud decided."

The Duke then focuses his gaze at Acestes. "This matter is considered closed, and you are to leave my city, never to return, no matter what Espérance does with you afterward."

The Duke looks at her next. "You are welcome to remain here to await word of your companion, if you do not wish to search for him yourself."

"I am concerned about him," Espérance admits. She turns to look at Hugo. "I wonder if Hugo can help find him. There is also the matter of Acestes' associates," she reminds the Duke.

Hugo thumps his tail once, directly, at Espérance 's musing about finding Huttner. His gaze, with all of the intelligence and perhaps more that she is used to in her companion is in his canine gaze.

"I daresay that he does." the Duke muses. He then looks at Acestes. "Now, what of your associates?"

"Amata is my companion who currently is tangling with Huttner. They are both..." [Acestes] pauses. "scions of the arcane arts."

The Duke looks unamused. "And the other?" he says.

"Nerva remains at the rooms in the inn we hired when we came here. So that we could remain in contact with our fellows outside of your Dukedom."

"Fine. We'll deal with this directly. You will accompany Miss St. Vier, her hound, and a patrol of my guards to find this Amata and her man Huttner. Once that is done, my guards will escort you and yours to collect this Nerva and get the three of you out of my city. They may not technically be bound by the results of the duel, but the sooner all of you Jesbys are out of my city, the less likely it is that I will put one of more of you in my dungeons. Or worse. Understood?"

He looks at Espérance and Acestes both.

Espérance nods and says, "I'm suited, Your Grace." She smiles slightly. "No insult intended to your fair city, but I do have a ship to catch if I'm to pursue my own mission -- so the sooner I can find Huttner and deal with the Jesbys, the better I'll like it."

"Your departure from my city is without fault or malice," the Duke replies evenly. "While the pleasure of your company would be welcome, it would not do to have your mission for her Grace be hobbled by missing your passage. Go with our blessing."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

He looks at the guards. "Escort the three of them and act as I have directed. Let Miss St. Vier lead. Begone." The Duke gives a smile to Espérance and turns to head back to the solid certainty of his strangely shaped edifice.

Four guards stand ready to follow Espérance (and more to the point, Hugo), and keep Acestes in check.

Espérance gives back both the dueling swords, repossesses her own blade, then says to the dog, "Let's go find Huttner, Hugo." By way of encouragement, she starts back the way they came.

Hugo thumps his tail, once and leads Espérance, the guards and Acestes away from the dueling circle and toward the gate of the Barbican. The latter, who has also obtained his smallsword again, looks backward at the site of his defeat with a forlorn look before he resolutely looks forward and marches on with the group centered on Hugo.

Hugo leads Espérance through the streets of Niejwein. She will note that as he progresses through the cobblestone streets, his tail wagging becomes more and more pronounced, the beat faster and faster as he presumably leads those following him to Huttner.

Hugo's target turns out to be an abandoned and rickety looking tall, thin tower like building that overlooks a quarter of the city, including, Espérance will note, the square she was accosted. At the top of this tower, two figures are visible in a silhouette against the sky, locked in some sort of grapple with each other.

Hugo barks, once, at the partially collapsed entrance to the gray stone structure.

"What is this building?" Espérance asks the guards, pointing to the tower as she tries to make out details of the struggling figures atop it.

"Used to be the tower of Silas the Alchemist." one of the guards says, looking up at the figures. "Since he died a year and a half back, no one's wanted to go in. You never know what they might have lying around."

To Acestes she says, "If you can call off your colleague up there -- presuming that's who it is -- I suggest you do it." "Amata" Acestes calls upward, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Stop this, our effort has failed. I command you in the name of our House!"

Acestes' words prove to be a distraction, for the grappling stops. The two figures stand against the sky. And then, suddenly, one of the figures grasps the other and launches the body into the air! As the guards stare in shock, the body falls from the tower toward the ground, accelerating as it races toward the ground.

The body of the tawny haired Amata, for that who it is that has fallen, lands on the ground in a thud against the cobblestones. Its a fall that should have killed anyone. Instead, with a crunching sound, still lying prone, Amata turns her head in an unnatural manner and glares at the guards and most especially Espérance. Her voice is raspy but unmistakeable.

"I will remember you, Espérance Darasdottir."

The guards step back a pace.

Espérance, however, stands her ground. Her steely gaze meets Amata's as she recommends coolly, "You do that."

Her mouth sets in a grim line, however. She is not particularly pleased with Huttner's action, if such it was. Peering up once more at the top of the tower, she calls, "Huttner, come down! Now!"

"Oh, allow me!" Amata rasps. A greenish glow appears around her hand.

Hugo barks, and growls at Acestes' companion.

Espérance's hand moves to her sword hilt, warningly.

Acestes leans to grasp her hand. "Stop this, you've done enough." he demands. The green glow dies.

Hugo calms down but still watches Amata attentively.

A couple of minutes later, Huttner, wobbly on his feet, emerges from the ruined entrance of the Tower. His eyes have a slightly glassy look, and his gait is unsteady. However, he smiles when he sees Espérance and Hugo.

"You're alive. I should never have doubted." he says, in a measured tone. He makes it five paces before he stops, and goes to one knee.

Espérance's attitude softens a trifle as she sees the shape Huttner is in. "I am glad to see you alive as well," she tells him. "We fought a neuromantic duel." Huttner replies, his eyes half closed. "I'll be all right...in a moment or two."

"I also fought a duel," Espérance tells him, "under the auspices of the Duke of the city. The decision went in our favor." She nods toward the guards.

With a bow, the guard who spoke precedes away from the Alchemist's tower, Acestes and his friend behind him and before the remaining guards. The party hurries away quickly. As soon as they do, Hugo returns to Espérance's side, much less tense than he has been through this entire experience.

Espérance takes the opportunity to ruffle the big dog's ears affectionately.

"It would take too long to wait for either, I think." Huttner replies, giving one last look at the departing group before returning his gaze to Espérance. "I might not be in great shape for a while once we get onto the ship."

"With any luck that won't matter," says Espérance. "From what the sailors told us, we'll have a good long stretch at sea for you to recover. In the meantime..." She offers him her arm to lean on, though not her sword arm, and in such a way that it can look as if they're just a couple strolling, though the pace she sets as she heads them back toward the docks is a good deal quicker than a stroll.

"Espérance..." Huttner waits for her to start heading downhill and follows alongside, taking the offered arm He has the look of a man who has suffered a blow to the head, even if there is no obvious injury. "We might want to consider alternatives to our ocean voyage if necessary. Or further...further preparations or impress on the captain an unexpected route change."

Espérance frowns slightly. "What do you mean?"

"We might want to change our route to find your father. I saw a little into Amata's mind; you can't but help but do that when you fight a duel like ours." He stops both him and Espérance a moment, leaning his hand against a stone walled building on the cobblestone street they are traveling down. "There's a lot more of these Jesbys in this world of yours, not in this city though. They want you, badly."

"They're certainly going about it badly," Espérance says in a dry tone. "But what you're saying, I take it, is that they may try to waylay us again. And in greater numbers?"

"I can't promise that they will send more skilled sorcerers and fighters against us." Huttner says in a slightly amused tone, resuming their progress down toward the waiting ship. "However, it was clear to me in the glimpse that I saw that the few Jesbys here in Niejwein are just a scout force of a larger party."

"Do you have any clear idea of where this larger party might be?" asks Espérance.

"Images, fragments, I didn't get a good look into her head before she was distracted, and I tossed her off of the Tower." Huttner replies. "Some sort of city by the sea, in a desert. Palm and Date trees. I don't know the geography of your world well enough to put it on the map. However, there are ways of arranging yourself so that you place yourself in the path of someone traveling. So I would expect the city to be on our route as currently designated."

"Could be as early as Akhiqar," muses Espérance. "That's the next port we'll be visiting. Perhaps we can get some more information on what it's like from the sailors. Obviously any of our ports of call would be by the sea, but the desert and the palm trees may narrow it down a bit."

"Indeed." Huttner offers a slightly strained smile. "One does not find palm trees anywhere near this city, certainly."

"I only know of them myself by reputation... and the occasional potted specimen adorning someone's ballroom," says Espérance.

Huttner widens his eyes in a look not of disbelief, but clearly one of not quite knowing what to make of such a revelation.

"Luck, milady St.Vier." Huttner adds as they turn a corner and points at the harbor. The sight of the White Maiden seems to give him strength and cheer. "It looks like our ship is still in port."

"Luck indeed," agrees Espérance. "Let's hurry and get aboard." She picks up the pace as much as Huttner seems able to take. Huttner gamely picks up his pace as much as he is able. Hugo's enthusiasm to get to the ship seems to spur him on. Also, the blast of a trumpet from the White Maiden suggests that its time in port is just about over. Espérance, Hugo and Huttner make it to the gangplank in the nick of time, as it is clear that the ship is about to cast off. Pridus stands at the top of the gangplank, and impatiently waves the three of them aboard. His eyes look over them when Espérance reaches the top of the gangplank.

"We nearly left without you." Pridus looks at Huttner and then at Espérance. "The captain feared the Duke would keep you here overlong."

"Fortunately we were able to conclude our business with dispatch," replies Espérance. "We have no wish to linger or delay our sailing any further."

"And we will not, rest assured." Pridus replies. "Quickly, we will cast off, and be on the open seas with the tide to bore us south on our way."

She looks at Huttner with concern. "You should go to your cabin and lie down. I'll do the same, if only to stay out of the crew's way while we cast off."

"Yes" Huttner agrees. "If the both of you will excuse me." Huttner turns and heads in the direction of the cabins.

"I'm sure the Captain will eventually want to hear your tale, as will I." Pridus says. "In the meantime, as you said yourself, you and your faithful hound may wish to retire, as your stricken friend already is set to do."

"I'll tell you the story once we're well on our way," Espérance assures him. She reflects that it might be well for the ship's officers, at least, to know something of the Jesbys, in case the White Maiden itself is a target next time.

"Agreed" Pridus seems to accept this answer.

For now, she follows Huttner toward the cabins, then enters her own. As is her habit, she glances around the small room while she unbuckles her sword belt and removes her boots. Then she stretches out on the narrow bunk to rest for a while and turn over the events of the day in her mind.

Hugo takes a watchful, but relaxed position at the foot of the bunk, watching the door.

The distant sounds of the crewmen is followed by the motion of the ship as it slides away from its moorings into the current of the remaining short stretch of the river that will imminently bring the White Maiden to the Sea...and the next leg of her, and Espérance's, journey.

The next few days allow Espérance to really get her sea legs.

The currents of the ocean and the feel of a ship on the oceans is different than that of the river. There is no one single flow of water, and the lack of banks means that the horizon is visible from sunrise to port to sunset to starboard.

Huttner's recovery takes about 2 days to completely recover from unseen wounds. By that third day, he is standing on the deck for long stretches, watching Espérance practice her swordplay with Hamzah with all of his former strength and enthusiasm.

It is thus in the evening of that day that, backing her up, Huttner is there when Espérance briefs the officers of the White Maiden. Per his request, the Captain requests the briefing take place over dinner.

The dinner itself is the usual sort of affair, with the meal being of some saltwater fish, served with an unfamiliar, exotic tasting sauce. The Captain bids Espérance to hold her story until the meal is at its conclusion. Once the food is done however, the officers of the ship turn to her expectantly.

"To start with," Espérance begins, "what did the Duke's messenger tell you, back in Niejwein? It will probably be more efficient for me to fill in the gaps than to start from scratch."

"Not as much as I would like" Captain Clarion says, taking a sip of the glass. "One of the Duke's bully boys showed up, asking for your bona fides, whether you were a passenger and what you were doing in the city."

"When we tried to quiz the soldier, he only said that it was a matter of the Duke's justice and wouldn't tell us more. We told him that you were a guest, of course, and he was on his way back to the Barbican. He took it badly when I wanted to send a representative with him. He said something about not having any orders to allow that."

"So..." Captain Clarion smiles "I had one of the mates follow him anyway. He didn't get inside, but we got some gossip that you were set to fight some sort of duel."

"Was your purpose in disembarking fighting this duel in the first place?" the Doctor puts in at this point. "And what happened to your companion here? Bad Food?"

Espérance shakes her head. "We both ran afoul of a group of people who evidently have it in for the family I know very little about," she says. "You may remember that when we first sailed, there were some of them on the shore making rude gestures."

"Yes." Pridus says. "I do remember. The same group?"

She turns a little toward Huttner. "Huttner had told me something about them, so we were at least half expecting trouble in Niejwein. I was hoping to waylay one of them and get some further information, but it didn't turn out that way. We were attacked in the marketplace; I took out one of them, but I got separated from Huttner when he took on another one. In the meantime, the Duke's guard turned up to see what the commotion was. The upshot was that I dueled another of these Jesbys, as they call themselves. I won, and the Duke undertook to see them out of his city."

"He was being somewhat merciful." The Captain muses. "Or so I have heard."

"I had already promised Acestes Jesby his life on condition of his yielding to me," says Espérance. "I like for my word to be good."

"Ah, the mercy originated with you." The Captain looks at Espérance speculatively.

[Espérance] looks over at Huttner. "Do you have anything to add? I only saw the ending of your fight."

Huttner looks slightly nervous as all of the attention turns to him for the moment. He takes a sip of the drink and then continues. "I felt that Hugo was enough of a bodyguard for Miss St. Vier. So, I decided to try and deal with the other Jesbys that I knew had to be around besides the ones in the marketplace itself."

"I know a bit of their habits, you see."

The Captain gives Huttner a nod to continue. After another nervous sip of his drink, Huttner does so.

"I found, and pursued one of them to an abandoned tower in the city. There, we had a duel of words and striving up and down the stairs of the tower for what seemed like hours."

"Hours." The Doctor says, dubiously.

"A long duel at any rate. One where we were simply striving to exhaustion" Huttner says. "Finally, our stalemate was broken when Espérance, fresh from her duel, arrived on the scene with the constabulary of the Duke's men. Fortunately, that ended the conflict. As Pridus can attest, the exhaustion brought on by the effort left me almost unable to return to the ship, save by Miss St Vier's help."

Espérance nods her agreement with this, while at the same time noting that nowhere has Huttner used the word "magic" or anything like it.

"We can't guarantee that more of these Jesbys won't be waiting for us in Akhiqar," she says. "Or that they won't target the White Maiden to get at us."

"Now we come to the salt tack." The Captain says, leaning backward a bit in his seat and caging his fingers. "You are concerned that this conflict that exists between you and the Jesbys will spill out onto my ship, one way or another."

"I think the possibility exists," says Espérance. "I don't know how likely it is."

"However, we are now at sea, and putting the two of you onto a dinghy would not please the Duchess." Captain Clarion continues. He seems to be ready to say something else, when the Doctor pipes up.

"Captain." Doctor Altair interrupts. "In the light of this, perhaps we should rethink this commission and contract. Surely the prospect of damage to the White Maiden and its crew and ourselves is not worth the cost of the passage paid to us."

Its not a sudden snap, but as soon as the Doctor says this, the demeanor of the Captain changes subtly. He looks at Espérance more speculatively.

"You have a point, Doctor." Captain Clarion says.

Huttner rises quickly, bows, and heads for the door. To Espérance, it looks like he is *feigning* illness, rather than an actual disagreement with the food. As he passes her by, he makes a small, subtle motion of the head in the direction of the door.

"If you wished to terminate the contract," Espérance says calmly, "in a way that would not alienate the Duchess and might also serve my interests in this... Is there a possible, unscheduled landfall we might make between here and Akhiqar? If the Jesbys are still on the trail, I can certainly see the advantages for Huttner and me in taking an alternate route to Panaji. Of course, I have no way of knowing if the White Maiden would be safe from attack even if Huttner and I were no longer aboard her."

"They did see you board at Riverside. And likely know from Niejwein that you are still our passengers." Pridus pipes up. He pointedly does not look at the Doctor, looking keenly at Espérance

"We could make a very early stop in Palmyra." The Doctor says. "It would be something out of our way to tack east to make landfall there, but it certainly could be done." He pauses a moment and then looks at Captain Clarion "Captain?" he says, putting a hand on the Captain's arm. "Wouldn't that be better for all of us?" The Doctor furrows his eyebrows as the Captain shakes his head and takes a long sip from his cup. The look on his face is gone.

"No." The Captain says firmly. "Unless Miss St. Vier insists on that plan, we will continue on as planned, and merely be wary. It's a long trip over the Spice Road from Palmyra all the way to Panaji. There are reasons, Doctor that the Duchess commissioned us in the first place, rather than sending her on foot."

"You are the Captain." Doctor Altair says, removing his hand and looking extremely puzzled. He, as well as the Captain and Pridus, look at Espérance.

"As I said," Espérance continues, "I'm not enamored of the idea of making the White Maiden a decoy... or of lengthening my mission by a long overland journey. Also, if the Jesbys do target the ship, Huttner and I both have at least some experience in dealing with them. Not to mention that if the events in Niejwein become known to them, it may give us a morale advantage," she adds with a slight, tilted smile.

"Then it is settled." The Captain says, slamming a wooden cup on the table for emphasis and exclamation on the last word. "We will be wary, however, we will continue to fulfill the contract."

Doctor Altair still looks unhappy at this reversal of his point of view.

A few moments later, the Captain looks at Pridus with a sudden enthusiasm. "First Mate, would you say that we have enough supplies to avoid having to stop at Akhiqar. and take on double rations at our next port?"

Pridus looks pensive. "Perhaps, Captain. If we reduce our rations slightly, a stop at Akhiqar would not be strictly necessary."

"Reduce the rations." Captain Clarion says. "If we can avoid having to *stop* at all there, these Jesbys waiting in Akhiqar would be most inconvenienced by not having Miss St Vier, or the ship, as a sitting target."

"Wouldn't they just?" he says, looking at Espérance for her reaction.

Espérance's smile broadens. "I like the way you think, Captain. Let them watch an empty mousehole for as long as they like. I trust an

earlier arrival in Panaji will not hurt your business either."

"An earlier arrival would be good for business." The Captain agrees with a nod. "Her Grace would be pleased by a more timely delivery of you to Panaji. I should have thought to ask for a bonus for an early arrival." Captain Clarion looks bemused for a moment.

"I may suggest it to Her Grace if I get the chance," says Espérance.

The First Mate grins widely. The Doctor looks pensive, and the Captain inclines his head to Espérance in obvious appreciation.

At this point, the door opens, and Huttner returns. He blinks his eyes uncertainly and makes his way to his seat. The Doctor looks at him for a long moment, but the first mate interrupts his stare by jumping in with conversation.

"Seasickness is a different kettle of fish than river travel." Pridus says..

"Y...yes." Huttner says after a moment's pause.

"Well now." Captain Clarion says. "I am glad the matter of our future trip has now been settled, and we know to be on the lookout for the unusual with these Jesby's." He manages to make the last word sound like something fecal in nature.

The Captain raises his glass toward Espérance. "To the frustration of your enemies, Miss St. Vier."

"I'll drink to that," she responds, raising her glass also. "And to an uneventful sail to Panaji."

"Yes, absolutely." Huttner says, reaching for his glass and drinking it.

The conversation turns toward more mundane shipboard matters, such as the goods picked up in Niejwein, and the strained moment seems to have passed. No one seems to act out of phase or character for the balance of the meal. Huttner eats little, and drinks a little bit more, remaining quiet with his own counsel.

After the meal and goodbyes are said, Huttner's speaks in a low voice to Espérance once they are on the way back toward the sleeping cabins.

"Your quarters." Huttner says. "Hugo is there and his presence will be good for additional masking."

Espérance nods, commenting only "Not the crow's nest this time?"

She leads the way to her quarters, glancing around before she opens the door for Huttner and herself to enter.

"Not this time. An after-evening climb in the deepening dark would be conspicuous, and noticed." Huttner says. Inside the cabin, everything is as it should be, with Hugo coming straight to his mistress for attention.

Espérance stoops to pet him and scratch him behind the ears as she listens to Huttner.

"And besides, I know what we're dealing with here, and so countermeasures can be more easily taken." he adds. He perches on a chair and waits for Espérance to arrange herself before going on.

Espérance sits on the edge of her bunk with Hugo at her feet.

"Magic is not precisely common in this world in which you were fostered, I believe I mentioned that earlier in our journey." Huttner begins. "However, there are practitioners using the local mana after all, to quite interesting ends. I did mention that they felt strange to me, when they first boarded, but I decided not to use my senses fully then. I did so tonight, at the dinner table, especially when the influence on him was so obvious."

"Doctor Altair, whatever he truly is, is using the local mana for magic, and he is practicing his arts on the Captain."

"I know that Hugo reacted to both of them, when we first dined at the Captain's table," comments Espérance. "Can you tell what Doctor Altair is doing to the Captain, and for what purpose?"

"I can't speak to his motivations." Huttner says after a moment's thought, with a shake of his head. He looks at Hugo, smiles slightly and then up to Espérance. "As to what he is doing, that's now as clear as the four colored sky. Its not a true sorcery, in the sense of being backed by a primal power. It's a local shadow version of what is called in the Courts Neuromancy--Sorcery that influences and is based on the mind. Some shadows call it Psionics." "I think I'm more comfortable -- or at least less confused -- calling it 'magic'," says Espérance.

"His control of his magic is not absolute" Huttner continues after a nod. "It seems the Doctor chooses to influence the Captain at regular intervals, with suggestions and subtle pushes now and again. His latest attempt, when the Doctor seemed to try and convince the Captain to drop us into a skiff and be done with us--that's when I feigned illness so that I could concentrate on finding and disrupting his attempts at influencing the Captain."

"My tutor would be pleased." Huttner says with obvious pride. "I do not think Doctor Altair quite suspects."

"And it appears you have succeeded," notes Espérance, "if that was indeed the Doctor's aim. The current plan is to bypass Akhiqar altogether and sail straight to Panaji. But I would still very much like to know what the Doctor has against us." She cocks an eyebrow at Huttner. "Professional jealousy, perhaps?"

"This is a situation where your current lack of training in the esoteric arts is an advantage." Hutter agrees with a nod. "He cannot consider you a professional rival, and indeed, if he is foolish, dismisses you completely for being more focused on the Art of Combat."

"I was thinking more of you," says Espérance.

"Ah" Huttner says. It's clear from his tone that he didn't quite consider the possibility until that moment.

"An alternate theory, however..." Huttner pauses and then continues "that his skills have allowed him to determine mine, and your, extradimensional origin. That makes us a potential threat to any plans he might have. We may stand out enough to unnerve him. If he, too, is truly from another Veil, he might think we are really here to deal with him in some manner."

"Normally I don't meddle in other people's business unless I'm hired to do so," Espérance comments dryly, "but if Doctor Altair wants to make it my business to deal with him... on his own head be it. Otherwise, if his hypothetical plans don't conflict with mine, I'm quite willing to leave him alone if he'll extend the same courtesy to us."

"The less he bothers us, the happier our voyage will be." Huttner agrees. "I'll continue to maintain a low profile. However, I'll keep watch for any tricks on his part. I'd rather not have him try to ensorcel you or Hugo. Hugo has protections, though..."

He looks at Espérance. "You've been practicing and learning and honing your swordplay skills, especially with Hamzah. What I propose, since we have some time on the open ocean, is that I teach you the basic mental defenses that every Chaosian learns at a much younger age."

"Your mother will undoubtedly have the Neuromancers in Sawall teach you in a formal manner, so I wouldn't want to go so far as to make it necessary for you to unlearn too much." Huttner says. "Just some basics."

"That might be prudent," Espérance agrees. "Just on principle, I prefer to be able to defend myself in whatever mode I may be attacked. Is this likely to attract the Doctor's notice any more than it is already, do you think?"

Huttner shakes his head. "What I was thinking was fairly basic passive defenses, rather than hanging active spellcraft of any type. In order for Doctor Altair to determine that you had these defenses, he would nearly have to engage you in a mental combat to know it. At the very least, he'd have to do a solid probe of your mind to find the barriers erected."

"And without any defenses, that solid probe of your mind would open your thoughts and mind to him in any event." Huttner adds, bowing his head. "I would have urged this sort of education sooner had I fully understood his ability."

Espérance nods. "If nothing else," she notes dryly, "I would hate to have him run across some of the nasty things I've thought about him lately. What will this training involve on my part -- and on yours, if it comes to that?"

Huttner looks at Hugo for a moment, who is thumping his tail in approval at Espérance's comment about Doctor Altair. Huttner then smiles, and then looks back at Espérance.

"Several things." he says, ticking off his right fingers with his left index finger.

"A few hours of time, a temporary, forged mental connection between you and I, and afterwards, a small amount of your time every few days to practice and maintain your wards once we get them in place."

"The method in the Courts." Huttner says with a tone of apology "is far more comprehensive, beginning with theory, types of wards, rigorous testing to determine suitabilities and strengths, and finally building up to the actual construction of the ward that best suits the scion."

"We probably don't have the time for all that," notes Espérance, "not to mention its drawing too much notice. But I'm sure we can manage those few hours of time while the sailors are busy with their duties. And after that...I'm used to keeping in practice.

"Is tomorrow soon enough to start? I would suspect we'll both want to be well rested for this."

"Tomorrow would work well for me." Huttner says. "And even if we had the time for a comprehensive education, I do not consider myself qualified to teach in that fashion to you. I merely wished to illustrate the difference, so that you know to expect when you *are* fully trained, in the Courts."

He bows his head.

"Until the morning, then, Espérance?" he enquires.

"Until the morning," she agrees. "Sleep well, but with one eye open."

Huttner starts to answer,two words, "I have" starting from his lips, and then he stops, smiles and then nods. "Of course. Until the morning."

And he then departs Espérance's cabin, leaving her alone with Hugo, her thoughts and the night ahead.

She quickly prepares for bed, making sure that both sword and dagger are within reach. As usual, she deliberately clears her mind of worry and speculation before allowing herself to drop off to sleep. Rest is important for staying in top form.

Sleep comes, without too much difficulty as the rocking of the ship upon the seas proves to be enough of a gentle motion to encourage Espérance toward rest as it did on the river.

Her sleep is refreshing, and undisturbed.

Morning comes back with the routine of the ship back to a sense of normalcy.When she decides to check in on Huttner, he in his cabin, doing something akin to meditation. He asks, in a surprisingly quiet voice, to come back at noon.

Espérance nods and withdraws, leaving Huttner to his meditation.

The rigging can be climbed for exercise; Hamzah is available to keep her sword skills fresh and sharp.

Hugo keeps close to Espérance, though, and she does notice a lack of appearance put in by the doctor through much of the morning and into midday.

Espérance climbs into the rigging first, both for exercise and to have a look around -- at the sea, at the weather, at the course of the ship.

The sea stretches in all directions. Unlike the river, where the shores were never out of sight, from the rigging, Espérance can see to the horizon in all directions. And all she can see is the wine-dark sea.

As far as the weather, there is a light breeze running from the northwest, helping to propel the ship south.

Descending to the deck, she hunts up Hamzah and suggests a bout of sparring. She also asks, in a casual, half-amused tone, if the Doctor stayed up too late last night after she herself turned in.

"Espérance-Ji." Hamzah bows to her, stopping his work on maintenance of one of the masts in order to respond to her.

"It is a passing strange thing." he says. "I did not see him consume his breakfast with the Captain, as is his wont, Indeed, I have not seen him on the deck all day. It is not a fast day or a holiday for our people. Unless, such a day has come, and the Doctor has not seen fit to tell his lowly kinsman."

"I don't know how the calendar in Aveshq corresponds with the one we use in Riverside," says Espérance, "but I've been keeping pretty good track of the days, so I should at least be able to tell you what day it is.

"You say it's a strange thing, so I have to assume this isn't something you've seen the Doctor do before," she hazards.

She also can't help wondering if the Doctor's absence and Huttner's "meditation" are in any way related, causally.

"The Doctor is usually seen by this time of the day." Hamzah replies. "The Calendar of Aveshq is a complex affair, often best left to the higher castes to calculate for the benefit of all." He looks thoughtful "Perhaps today is a day of religious importance to those of higher caste than I. Or perhaps it is holy to one of the many Gods of which I am not familiar, but the Doctor is, and devoted to."

"Do you know which gods the Doctor is devoted to?" Espérance asks curiously. "Or is that one of those things you don't ask people in Aveshq?"

"The Land of a Million Gods is open to all Gods." Hamzah replies, as if it were an axiom. "Truthfully, Espérance-Ji, I do not know which ones that he is devoted to, although I might hazard guesses, given his caste and station. He probably worships Minha of the Stars, in the aspect of Healer, and perhaps given his social rank, Pandili of the Roads. At the bare minimum. We find in Aveshq that it is better to show deference to too many Gods than too few."

"The same holds true with nobles," Espérance notes wryly.

"The only way to know without asking him would be to see his personal shrine." Hamzah continues. "He has quarters enough for such devotional pieces, of course." Hamzah says. "As you saw, I do not."

"No, regular seamen usually don't," agrees Espérance. Then she continues, "I'm curious. How much would you be able to tell about someone simply by knowing which gods he worships?"

"Beliefs are central to character." Hamzah replies. "The knowledge of which Gods a man worships tells you much of what a man is like, and how he will react to situations, and what he treasures. Do you not find this so in your own beliefs?"

"Beliefs in Riverside aren't quite so...concrete," says Espérance.

"To give myself as a humble and unworthy of an example, Espérance-Ji," Hamzah continues, bowing his head.

"I give honor to Al-Ghaffar, the Ever Forgiving One, for he is the patron god of my home village in Aveshq and it is important to honor one's birthplace. I give honor to The Lady Jedira, for the strength and celerity to understand the lore of the blade and the war fan. I respect Yeshi of the Six Coins, for she favors trade and commerce and I wish the White Maiden to prosper as a crewman upon it. And as a seaman, I never fail to give honor to Mael, Elder God of the Sea. The other sailors here have their superstitions, or their own reverences for the power of the ocean and water. It never pays for a sailor to be anything else for the power of the element upon which we travel."

"No, I can quite see that. So if you were of sufficient rank to have your own cabin, you would have a personal shrine, with devotional pieces for each of the gods you honor? And a knowledgeable person, seeing it, would know which gods those were?"

"A man or a woman always keeps the greatest shrines to their Gods here." Hamzah touches his temples. "and here." Hamzah then touches his heart. "However, were I to have the space, and the surety of position that would allow such a shrine to be unmolested, I certainly would have a shrine set up as the Doctor undoubtedly does."

"If I were given the honor, Espérance-Ji..." Hamzah looks at Espérance and furrows his eyebrows for a moment "or perhaps had a less conventional method of seeing the shrine that Doctor Altair has arranged, I would recognize the Gods by their devotional pieces, unless, as I have said before, those Gods the Doctor favors are exceedingly uncommon in worship."

"Hm. Does anyone clean the Doctor's quarters for him?" Espérance asked. "Or does he take care of that himself?"

"The doctor is often a private man." Hamzah replies. "However, I am given to understand that one or two of the midshipmen are granted the privilege and duty of seeing to the senior officer's rooms. I believe you are already acquainted with one of those set to that duty. Christoffer is his name,Espérance-Ji."

"Did you wish me to speak to him on your behalf regarding your request?"

"How about if you just let him know I'd like to speak to him?" suggests Espérance. "You might give me an opinion, though, on how good an observer he is, since you've presumably sailed with him for a while now."

"To be a midshipman on this vessel is not an easy berth." Hamzah replies. "Those who do not think quickly on their feet, who do not anticipate the desires of the Captain and officers, and those who are not observant, do not last long under the Captain's auspices. There are many who would wish to take his place. Christoffer is a good midshipman, Espérance-Ji, one who dreams and works hard to become a third officer someday."

"I shall summon him to speak with you straightaway." he promises, bowing.

"I would appreciate that, but don't draw him away from his duties," says Espérance. "When he has a free moment, he can come and speak to me. I don't wish to interfere with the routine of the ship." She also does not want to draw unwanted attention to her questioning of the ship's personnel.

Comprehension, perhaps, of Espérance's unspoken point shines in the swordsman's eyes, and he gives a bow. "Of course, Espérance-Ji. It shall be done with the keeness and sharpness of the edge of a war fan, and with the same discretion and grace."

"I couldn't ask for better," she says.

"If you will excuse me now, there are duties I must oversee, as well as pass on your message of course." he adds.

"Yes, by all means, attend to your duties. Tell Christoffer I'll be ready whenever he has a free moment."

Espérance lets Hamzah go, then wanders unobtrusively back to Huttner's cabin to check on him again.

By the time Espérance returns to Huttner's cabin, he rises from his meditative position, and inclines his head toward her. "My pardons on being uncommunicative, earlier, Espérance. I was preparing myself for our session in getting your wards prepared and activated. I have just completed my meditations and now am ready to teach you and prepare you at your convenience."

"Is that why you've returned?" he asks.

"That, and I wanted to make sure you were all right," says Espérance. "I've also been doing what I can to find out more about the mysterious Doctor Altair. Are we going to need absolute solitude for this? The midshipman Christoffer might come looking for me at some point."

"I am fine. I merely wished to organize my mind. You have my apologies if I unduly concerned you for my well being. To answer your question, however, privacy is preferred for workings of this type." Huttner replies. "However, it is not strictly mandatory. This is not a complicated working that has a danger of going sour if it is interrupted. I would be more concerned if the mysterious Doctor Altair came to interrupt us than a ship officer."

"So would I," says Espérance. "I take it he hasn't tried anything against you yet? That was one of the main things that concerned me."

"No, he has not moved against me as yet." Huttner says. "He may be afraid, and he may be biding his time."

"How about this." he continues. "Let us take it in small steps and stages, so that when the midshipman comes looking for you, and to tell you more about the Doctor if I mark my guess, less work is lost."

"Would this allay your concerns?" Huttner says.

"That sounds like an excellent plan," says Espérance. "As you guessed, I am trying to gather information about the Doctor, in a somewhat roundabout fashion."

"Gathering information on a possible opponent is a wise strategy, in Gateway or on the field of battle." Huttner says. "Especially with this sailing trip across the wide seas threatening to make a conflict between us and him inevitable."

"Any conflict will be of his instigation," Espérance says with a tight smile, "but I intend to be ready for it."

"Of course. It is dangerous to underestimate someone of your bloodline." Huttner says.

"Come, Espérance" he adds. He walks to the door, looks outside, and then closes it. "We will sit on the floor here together, crosslegged and hands clasped, and begin the process of building your wards."

"On guard, Hugo," Espérance instructs the dog, indicating the cabin door. Then she seats herself crosslegged on the floor opposite Huttner, as he indicated, and clasps hands with him.

Hugo trots to the door and sits at it smartly, watchful, vigilant, and attentive.

In the meantime, as Espérance grasps hands with Huttner, her attentions go elsewhere. The cabin room dissolves from her ocular attentions to a gray formless that is more indicative of dreams. There is no visual stimuli, nothing to see. There are no smells and she can no longer feel the deck of the ship beneath her. There is no taste on her tongue.

The sensation -- or rather, the lack of sensation -- is unsettling, but Espérance controls her alarm.

"Good. Our minds are linked." Espérance hears the voice of Huttner, showing her sense of hearing, or something, is still active.

"Let's build your defenses. Metaphor and simile are important to the construction of a good defense, one that will work within your mind. What I want you to do is to envision a protective and defensive structure or item. What you envision matters in the sense that the structure should mean defense and protection to you. This visualization will give some definition to the fine details of your defense, but I am more concerned about getting you a defense rather than trying to force a particular type on you."

"I can show you mine first, if you prefer." Huttner adds. "Or you can begin and I can help you build it once I begin to see the lines of your structure. Your choice."

Espérance's reply is not verbal, but expressed in the very action Huttner has suggested. Within the void of their shared consciousness, a perimeter forms, sprouts, intertwines in a virtual Celtic knotwork of sinewy, barbed stems -- a thorn hedge as deadly as the one that warded Sleeping Beauty.

"Good, good." comes Huttner's voice as the thorn hedge begins to sprout. Espérance feels a burst of energy, striving her to increase her rate of growth, as well as a trellis, a scaffold onto which the hedge can grow and run. A riot of green stems with deadly thorns soon is a demarcation across the landscape. It's the only thing to see, and it runs in a curving path, defining a large circle around the "center" where Espérance feels herself. Finally, the circle is complete and the ward stops growing into place.

"Wood paradigm." Huttner says approvingly. "Elemental walls are a pretty standard choice. Wood is an unusual choice, I will admit, but it does provide a nasty surprise for a would be attacker. I assume you made the thorns poisonous?"

"They don't need to be," Espérance replies. At a nudge from her mind, each thorn instantaneously doubles in length; any presence already entangled in the hedge would obviously be pierced in a hundred places. "Any more than I would envenom my sword."

"I see." There is a pleased tone in Huttner's voice. He continues. Now, commit this to memory, make it yours. This is your protection. This is what will save your mind from harm." Huttner says. "And then we'll drop out of this and we'll try a dry run."

Espérance concentrates, rooting the thorn hedge in her memory.

"Any questions?"

"Would an intruder 'see' this?" Espérance wants to know. "Or would different people perceive it differently?"

An amused chuckles comes from the unseen Huttner.

"You can spend decades learning the minutae of mental combat. Much like the use of the weapons of which you are expert." Huttner replies. "A conflict where an attacker is attempting to force themselves upon your mind would start with your own mindscape. With this wall of thorns. If the fight progressed long enough, the attacker would attempt to undermine your paradigm and turn it into something less effective and more amenable to being bypassed or destroyed."

"Your response would be to resist this of course." he adds. "And change the paradigm in ways that favor you. These changes in perception reflect the conflict between attacker and defender. The stronger and more skillful your mind, the more successful you will be."

"Sounds a bit like those ballads where there's a fight between two shapeshifters," comments Espérance, "and they keep trying to find a shape that'll get the better of their opponent's."

"I begin to see why Lady Dara chose this shadow to foster you within." the voice of Huttner comes. "There are parallels between Shaping Combat and these ballads of which you are familiar. Gaining the better shape, here, means that you can better use your mental strength, Espérance, to defeat your opponent, whether on offense or defense. This is why your initial defense, such as you have here, needs to be well in mind and strong."

"And thus this entire exercise."

"Understood," says Espérance. "So I'm now in en garde position... shall we try a little sparring?"

"Yes." comes the voice of Huttner. "I had originally intended to go from a standing start, but it may be more illustrative to start from here and you can see what an attack might look like..."

And then Huttner goes silent and Espérance sees and hears nothing for about a minute, at least from her perspective. Finally, this lull is broken by the appearance of a strange looking figure on the "horizon" approaching the hedge that she has placed around her mind. As the figure resolves, Espérance sees that the figure looks somewhat, above the waist, like her traveling companion.

From the waist, below, however, his body blends into that of something very arachnid in nature, complete with eight legs and a bloated spider's body. This strangely formed version of Huttner calmly clatters across the formless plain toward Espérance's thorny wall.A bandoleer of small glass vials is draped across his torso, and one of those vials is held in his right hand, as if being prepared to throw.

Espérance concentrates, and the thorn hedge rapidly throws out runners along the top edge that weave themselves into a dome.

The spider-man form of Huttner stops as Espérance rearranges her defenses, the hedge now completely surrounding the central core of her mind in a much more defensive pose.

It occurs to Espérance that her maneuver is much like a defensive stance or style in swordplay. It trades the ability to go on the offense with an added and improved defense and protective value. Huttner finally starts his advance again once Espérance's defenses have been put in place, stopping an indeterminate distance from where the dome of thorny wood stands in defense.

The glass vial in his hand is suddenly thrown, launched through the air at Espérance's wall. It strikes the wall, at a point where it has grown thanks to her defensive posture. The "contents" release themselves as glass strikes wood and thorn, something caustic, and designed to eat away at her defenses like acid.

From what she feels, it will be a slow process for the acid to eat a hole in her thorny wall, which is probably why the huttner spider-man attacker starts to ready another volley.

The hedge begins to burgeon with fresh growth at the spot where the vial hit. At the same time Espérance concentrates on a couple of more subtle, less visible alterations.

Huttner stops his approach, watching Espérance's attempts at repairing the damage he caused with his volley. Cautiously, he begins a circuit of the dome of Espérance's protection. His hands start pulling off vials and throwing them, in rapid fashion, at random points in the wall.

His strategy seems to be to try and overwhelm Espérance's defenses with a barrage of attacks. None of the attacks are particularly strong, but he seems to be trying to get Espérance to exhaust herself repairing and responding to all of them. Espérance does recognize that the repair of defenses from any one attack is only mildly fatiguing, but to try and repair more than one at once will rapidly become progressively harder and taxing.

Backlinks

StrangeBedfellows.GameThreadsSpring2009