Forgotten Shadows

[Jerusha]

Jasper was big and strong, but not fully recovered from the woman's fierce attack. Iain had no trouble avoiding the man's fist. 

"You've not noticed I'm holding a drawn sword?" Iain taunted. "Bit of an oversight, eh?"

Jasper lunged forward and tried to grab for the guardsman's sword hand.

Iain moved the point of his sword to Jasper's outstretched hand, and Jasper's forward movement drove Iain's sword through it. Iain moved back to stop the momentum, and Jasper was left with his hand skewered a third of the way up the blade.

"If you want to ever be able to use that hand again, I suggest you tell me where Sir Airich is."  Iain held the blade steady, his eyes boring into Jasper's.

Jasper's reply was foul and colourful. Iain twisted his blade and Jasper howled in pain.

"I am out of patience,"  Iain's voice was hard and cold. "Tell me what you know, or lose the hand.  NOW!"

Jasper tried to pull his hand off the blade, but the pain dropped him to his knees. 

"I left your foul Deryni in the stable, stuck to the ground with my dagger." Jasper tried to hold his arm in a position where his hand didn't hurt so much, but the slightest movement sent pain racing down his arm, causing it to twitch and hurt his hand more.

"So you left him to die?" Iain asked as several men from the Purple Guard finally arrived on the scene. All they needed to do was to hear Jasper's answer, and Iain could turn the man over to them. He twisted the sword a bit more.

"Yes!" Jasper fairly screamed. "Baines was to watch and make sure the knight wasn't found and rescued."

"So you are a murderer by your own confession." Iain pulled his sword from Jasper's hand; Jasper grit his teeth and fainted. 

Iain looked at his fellow guardsmen. "You can take care of this lot now, and send for a cart for the body. You can probably haul Jasper up beside it."

Iain moved towards the others at the stable entrance, and the bowman finally lowered his bow.

[Nezz]

Da? Are you there?

I'm here, son.

It's so quiet. As if no one else in the world exists.

That's just sleep. Normal, Human sleep.

The silence is almost deafening.

No, it's the Deryni who hear so much, even when they're asleep. It took me the longest time to shut out all the noise in your head.

So if you're not my Da, who are you?

I've been trying to figure that out. We can safely rule out the idea that I am the Earl Derry by the fact that we have spent a great amount of time with him over the past few years. I don't think you're possessed; you don't act as if you're possessed by any kind of demonic spirit, and to be honest, I don't feel like I'm a demonic spirit. If it weren't for the fact that I see Airich Michael O'Flynn when looking in the mirror, I would swear I am Sean Seamus O'Flynn. But if you want my honest opinion, I'm pretty sure I'm you.

Me?

Aye. It's the only answer that makes any sense.

How could this be? You have your own reasoning and identity, and I have mine.

Yet we both share each other's memories and experiences. I have a theory about that. You know how Orin warns sorcerers to assimilate memories quickly or they will eventually go insane?

Yes.

That's where we are now.

I'm insane?

Makes sense, doesn't it?

I knew I was headed that direction. If I am insane, it doesn't feel any different  than not being insane.

Well, think about it. What is insanity? It can be any number of things, but one of them is an inability to accept reality. And the reality is that your father does not live in your mind, but every sense you have would swear that he does. And generally when a man insists there are voices talking to him, his family will quietly lock him in a room where he can't hurt himself and not let him out again. Wouldn't you say there are voices in your head?

Aye.

Well then.

Are you sure this isn't just the merasha talking?

I'm sure. Not unless you've spent the last four years in a merasha daze.

I don't think so. I've only been given merasha once before, while I was in training.

Well, I wouldn't know, I've never been given mera— No. That's not right. I have had merasha. But I don't remember when or why.

Really? Why would someone give merasha to a Human?

I don't know. It must have been one of those times I don't remember.

Was that when you were in Esgair Ddu?

Either that or one other occasion where I lost time.

What do you mean lost time?

Just an empty spot in my memory when I can't account for where I was or what I was doing. I wouldn't have noticed it except that it was a few days before Their Majesties married, and scheduling was tight. I lost about two days, and of course no one else would acknowledge it. I eventually stopped worrying about it. You have to do that when you're a Human surrounded by Deryni. Especially royals. Ha. Or your own family.

I'm sorry, Da. Sometimes we Deryni do a terrible job of properly caring for the Humans we love.

Don't fret, son. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married your mother. Who, by the way, I haven't seen in a very long time.

Da! Stop!

I was hoping your dark-haired lovely might have stayed longer last night. But no, she dutifully sent you off to sleep as your sister taught her to. Pity, that. 

She is lovely, isn't she?

Oh, aye. I thoroughly approve of her.

You know, Da, insanity isn't so bad. You're good company.

As are you, boy. As are you.

[Laurna]

Thursday early afternoon
Courtyard around the side of the Drunken Parchment Tavern

In the aftermath of her anger, Amy stood in despair behind the priest, who stood between her and retaliation. Realization dawned: her violent attack had done nothing to expel her grief.³ Very much the opposite; every sense she had seemed heightened. In desperation, she honed her senses, searching with sight, sound, and smell for anything that could give a clue for how her knight had gone from this place.⁴

There... at waist height, in a splinter of the stable entrance post, dangled a coil of sky-blue thread. Amy doubted very many students carried such an item. Shaking fingers pulled the snarled thread from where it had caught. Dark red spots marred the blue color. Blood!

But how...?

A few feet along the outside of the stable walls lay a silver penny. She picked it up without thinking, then a few feet more lay a farthing. This time she noted the dried blood on the coin's face as she lifted it to her eyes.

"Airich!" Fighting back tears, she clutched the coin to her cheek in dismay.

She took more steps away, putting distance between herself and the confrontation going on behind her. This side of the yard was thick with mud and uneven ground. Strings closing a small velvet bag stood up in the mud. Amy reached down for it, she released the string's knot, confirming what she knew lay inside the bag. She poured eight black and white cubes into the cup of her palm. The warmth, the touch, the smell of Airich O'Flynn filled her mind. Reaching for a connection greater than mundane senses, she cast outward with the power she was starting to control to see if she could discover the truth.⁵

There in the distance, a heart beat, and then another. Weak, but proof of life! Mind muddled with illusion, unable to control his own thoughts or even his own body. But the body was being moved, the motion was detectable as Amy sought out a direction.

But then the motion stopped and a veil of shadow forced Amy's presence away.  With an emptiness she could barely endure, she looked up to see Edwin running up to her. When the student stopped before her, she didn't notice his disarray. Or the black and blue around his eye and cheek.

She held out her palm with the ward cubes and wailed at him. "Where were you? How did you let this happen?!"

³ ((Tiring Action for Amy, Save Test (2d6) from fatigue  2d6: 1 + 5 Success))
⁴ ((Amy Perceptive at Advantage: can Amy touch on Airich's life force   3d6: 6, 3 & 3 Success))
⁵ ((Amy "Casting OUT Spell for Airich's life force" Bynw says I can use Standard with plus one Pip. Adding 4 Grit to lower my next Test by 1. Therefor 3 4 5 or 6 is a Success. 2d6= 1 & 6  SUCCESS!!))

[revanne]

Edwin choked down the anger that boiled up in his throat. It was all very well imagining what he was going to say to Airich, unless he got his wits together and his backside out of this Crypt, it would be left to his ghost to tell the knight a few home truths. Edwin had a sudden picture of his skeleton, bones a-rattling, jumping out of dark corners to terrify Airich, hopefully when he was just about to kiss some lass. Not Amy, though, he was fond of Amy as he was of his sisters, and would not like her to be upset.

And with that thought he was suddenly aware of Amy, Amy in deep distress. What had happened, and what was Airich doing to allow her to be so uncomforted that her distress should be so palpable even to a Deryni as poorly trained as Edwin? He tentatively tried to reach out in rapport to her, but he could not reach through her anguish. Right then you fool, stop proving right what others say of you and get yourself out of here. 

There was a shallow flight of steps leading to a solid wooden door which he assumed led out of the crypt. Almost certainly it was locked, whichever of them had left him here it was too much to expect that they would leave him a way out. He climbed the stairs and relieved a little of his frustration by shaking the door against the bar, which—as he had expected—held it closed from the outside, then sat down on the top step and forced himself to think. Many of these old church crypts were linked by tunnels, it was more likely than not that this one did too. He began to laugh, then stopped himself, all too aware of how close hysteria was. But he was remembering the time that his brothers had played a similar trick on him in the church crypt at Culdi, though they swore blind that they had always meant to come back for him after an hour or so. Aged eleven, he had been just a little too interested in his brothers' fumblings with the tavern wenches, brat that he had been. He hadn't waited for them to come back but exploring his surroundings had found a tunnel which came out in a lane beyond the church. Exalting in unexpected freedom, he had finally deigned to come home as evening fell to find the house in uproar and his brothers in deep trouble. 

Ashamed at himself for being so distracted, but still smiling, he took the time to focus enough to light a glow of greenish handfire and made his way into the shadowy corners of the crypt where, as he expected, there was the remains of a broken down doorway leading into one of the brick lined tunnels of centuries old Grecotha. All traces of his former amusement now gone as the sense of Amy's distress pierced him, and praying desperately that this would lead to the surface and not into a thieves' hideout, or worse a nest of Williamites, Edwin carefully picked his way through the darkness. (5+6+2 Edwin has Sneaky trait. Success) After a while the tunnel led upwards and quite suddenly ended in a cellar which clearly was part of a tavern. Offering a quick prayer to St Amand, the Vezaire patron saint of taverns to whom Edwin had lit many a candle of gratitude, he heaved himself up and out of the open trap door and slipped out of the tavern door, thankful that the few patrons were too busy drying themselves around the fire to have any interest in what else was happening.

Once safely out into the anonymity of the street, though the steady rain meant that it was less busy than might have been expected, Edwin stopped to ponder his next move. His hurt pride still wanted to find and beat up Airich, but that was far less important than the need to find Amy whose distress was still nagging away at his psyche like a broken tooth. He wondered briefly whether he should go to the Dean's residence or the infirmary to try and find her, but both were likely to involve him in awkward questions. The Drunken Parchment! A tavern was the best place for a man as unkempt and bruised as he was who didn't want awkward questions and Bede's lass was maybe still there.

He turned with determination and made his way purposefully through the streets, anger building in him again, this time against whoever it was who had hurt or frightened Amy so badly. He turned the corner of the tavern, too focused on his goal to really look where he was going, and just avoided running into Amy. 

"Amy! What it is? Where the hell is Airich, why isn't he looking after you?"

[Marc_du_Temple]

[A team effort involving Jerusha, Laurna and myself]
"To me, fair lasses," Bede beckoned in a tone far less inviting than dutifully urgent as Jasper made a swing at the short purple guardsman. Bede kept his bow aimed at the last of Jasper's standing men to keep him out of the fray.

Elspeth warily made her way behind him, but she was only the one lass. To Bede's frustration, the other was walking off down the side of the building and then disappeared out of sight around its corner. As they backed toward the priest bringing forth the knight's horse, Bede keeping his bow ready, Elspeth remarked in a voice only for him to hear, "At last, you earn your keep as a guard."

"No," Bede whispered in reply. "I merely cancel two failures with two prayers for yer safety, all in one day. Though ye are fierce in ways I scarce fathom, if I could barely survive these 'men', I like na yer chances either. We've lost enough for one day, yeah?"

"Two failures?"

"I'll explain later, I promise. For now, up onto the good knight's horse, please. Wherever we go from here, he's coming, too."

Arriving into the yard from the street came a number of men, many wearing a purple sash. One of the new men shouted, "Archer!" Bede glanced around for the one who shouted for him. It was the guard named Hawthorne, who met him in the middle distance of the courtyard. "What do you have to say about this, young man?"

"I say," Bede furrowed his brows, wondering what would be safe to say, "That a knight who is close to the king himself ... 'Airich', if that sounds familiar, seems to have been murdered cravenly. The sword carried by my friend in the green glasses and the hood: that was his own, but the dagger the young mistress held was Jasper's. Please, ask him how she found it in there. The sword, I found in the hands of the man I shot ... in self defense. Ye may think the body over there would be Airich's, but we may thank the Laird it is na. I dinna know who he is in there, but it is na him, and there are no signs of a struggle upon him, unlike what I fear we may find on Airich when we find him. What killed the stable man? Foul air? God? All signs point to him being a part of this rotten mess, seeing as he and the weapon thief are a part of that damned duelist's lot."

By the time Bede was done with his long-winded explanation, Hawthorne had already picked out men of his to assign to the arrest of different members of Jasper's crew. Jasper, bloodied and wounded by his own callus viscousness, was carted away, a wolf no more amongst the pandemonium.

The crowd of rogues being thus dispelled, the Mearan, the physicker, a priest Bede didn't recognize, and the student known as Eustace were gathering in the rainy courtyard.

"Why are we still standing about??" Elspeth said in frustration from atop the silver horse. "If Airich was here, he has been moved, and we must find him." Their matron looked around her, finally noticing her friend was not there. "Where did Amy go?"

Bede tilted his head in the direction the girl had disappeared to. "Maybe she found a trail."

"If there is a trail, we must find it, and find it NOW!" Elspeth exclaimed. "Airich's life depends on it." Taking the lead, she began to examine the ground for clues from her perch astride Airich's steed.

Jimmy, the bishop's guard, approached the small group as they began to move away.  He acknowledged their initiative, "I would like to join you," he said with a brief nod to Trevor and Elspeth, but settled his look at the archer and the student to get their acceptance. From the Mearan's questioning look, It was clear to Jimmy that a quick introduction was in order, before the investigation into the knight's disappearance slipped away from them like a rogue sorcerer through a portal.

"We have not all been properly introduced," he spoke loudly, adopting a tone precise to stop every one of them in their tracks, including the horse, with a little help from his hand tugging the reins. "Jimmy Taylor, at your service in the investigation of these matters."

Elspeth quickly recalled Jimmy from earlier in the day, speaking before he could.  "I remember you from the church earlier.  You disappeared rather suddenly."  She raised one eyebrow while waiting for his response.

"Ah yes," he smiled. "T'was merely official business, over there." Turning to the priest, he simply bowed his head. "Father." The priest seemed well acquainted with him, or at least as much as with any other soul, and quietly blessed him. Then, moving to face Bede and Eustace, he asked, "Am I to take you gentlemen for the investigators?" He asked it, knowing the answer would be only partially affirmative.

Already Eustace seemed to shrink within himself, and before Bede could make reply, Elspeth did. "I would not be so hasty in my assumptions. We are all officially sanctioned here, save the boy holding Airich's sword like something strange, and the priest's vocation is something good, but quite different. Two of our number are now absent. A good young student and the knight Airich."

"Of course," Iain smiled his thanks for the clarification. "Are you the leader of this band, mistress..."

"Elspeth," she said. "Now, may we get started? We have no more time to waste."

As the group rounded the corner, they came upon a battered student and Mistress Amy; the latter dripping with tears of fury falling hotly amongst the cold rain.

[Jerusha]

Thursday early afternoon
Courtyard around the side of the Drunken Parchment Tavern

"I found these in the mud outside of the stable," Amy said, her voice shaking from the tears she was still shedding. "They belonged to Airich and are stained with his blood!"  She stopped for a moment to steady herself.  "For a moment or two, I thought I could detect his heartbeat, and it felt like he was being moved. But then I could no longer feel him, and I fear we have lost him again!"

"We won't give up," Elspeth said firmly. "We will never give up."

"May I have a look at what you found?" The Purple Guardsman said and reached out his hand to take the objects.

"No!" Amy said firmly and pulled her hand back.

"Let me have a look," Trevor said gently. "While I don't doubt they are Airich's, I'll be able to tell for sure."

She hesitated for a moment, they poured the objects into the priest's hand. Trevor folded his fingers around them, closed his eyes and then nodded. "These are Airich's," he said simply.

"May I now have a look?" the guardsman asked again.

"On my word you can trust him," Trevor said. "But you will have to accept my word on that."

Jimmy pressed his hand over the priest's and after a moment nodded. He could get a sense of the man that had owned them, and he stored it away in his memory.

"Let us see what else we can find in the mud." Jimmy paused to remove his helmet and push his wheaten hair back from his eyes, careful to keep the hair dry lest the darkening powder he used on it might wash away. The soldier's knot that currently held his hair back was not as effective as his normal highland braid; some things just needed to be endured. He replaced his helmet, bent over and began to scan the mud around them, using his senses as well as his eyes. ¹

There was a print, and another farther ahead. ² Jimmy examined them closely. "The prints are sunk well into the mud. I take that to mean that whoever made these prints was carrying something or someone."

"Airich!" Amy exclaimed.

"We don't know that," Elspeth cautioned. 

"The only way to know is to follow them," the priest said.

"Follow my lead," Jimmy said and instantly felt resistance from those around him. "If we all go mucking about without care," he said carefully, "we'll damage the tracks and maybe miss other signs or objects. Stay with me, of course, and watch for anything I might miss."

"Fairly stated," Edwin said after a moment. "And your eyes are not as far above the ground as the rest of ours."

"Don't be cheeky," Elspeth admonished. "You still have some explaining to do. That will have to wait for later, though."

There remained no doubt in Jimmy's mind as to who their leader was.

They followed the prints through the mud. At one point Trevor found another coin with traces of smudged blood barely visible. The prints were a little deeper there, as if a man had shifted his burden and the coin had fallen loose. 

Soon they reached the cobblestones of the street, and the rain began to fall harder. They could see the mud that the boots had left behind on the stones begin to dissolve before their eyes.

"Bloody hell," Jimmy said, with no thought of apologizing to the women. Or the priest.

"We must hurry before they are completely gone," Amy said urgently.

Jimmy waved his arm at the street in front of them. "They already are." Not a trace remained.

They stood in the rain, forlornly looking around them for any sign, no matter how small.

Sir Iain Cameron slipped to one side and put out a call to the one man who would know more than they did. Feyd did not answer right away, but Iain was confident he would.


¹ ((Will Iain spot a footprint? 1d6=6 Success.))
² ((Will Iain be able to tell from the depth of the print that someone was carrying something?  1d6=5 Success.))

[Bynw]

Feyd did not answer Lord Iain's call the way Iain had expected. He came out of the rain, appearing between the rain drops. Almost phasing into reality like an apparition.

But it wasn't a specter, just a man in a heavy oiled cloak against the rain. Iain knew right away that it was Feyd. And Feyd was a master of several things.

Long distance portal jumps, concealment spells, memory, finding people -- human or Deryni. And of death, for he was probably the greatest assassin in the 11 Kingdoms.

The cloaked, obviously Deryni, stranger approaches the Purple Guardsman Jimmy and offers his hand in greeting. "You are looking for Sir Airich," he says with a characteristic smile. It wasn't a question coming from the man's lips. It was a statement.

[Laurna]

Arx Fidei Seminary
Early Afternoon
The King's men working at the ongoing effort to move invaluable documents out of Grecotha.

Washburn Morgan portal out of Rhemuth Castle's library, again, frustrated once more for not being able to speak with King Kelson. This was his second portal round-trip, consisting of an interval portal-stop each way to catch his breath. The distance was not so great that it exhausted him, but it did require a pause to clear the mind for each next sequential jump. Washburn would not have made this second roundtrip himself if it had not been for the sensitivity of this last collection of tomes; these needed to be placed directly into Archbishop Duncan's hands. Duncan did accept them, glad for the breather away from King Kelson's council chambers. Kelson was deluged in accusations from family members of the de Nore clan. The archbishop and the king, thus far, kept the meeting civil, but one misplaced word might force Kelson into an action he was trying to prevent. This threat of Fire in Grecotha, allegedly implemented by De Nore's dead son needed to be curtailed and not hastened. With that in mind, Duncan's orders were to keep a hush on the movement of documents out of Grecotha and to keep all Deryni activity in this matter a royal secret.

When Archbishop Duncan accepted the satchel from Washburn, he'd noded with approval, "Relay back to Dean Nathanial, from me, that his documents are under my protection. When all has settled, I will have them returned to Grecotha. Tell me, my boy, what report would you have for Kelson? I see that Sir Airich O'Flynn is not yet accompanied you in portaling here as our king has requested."

"Nay, Uncle. It seems our O'Flynn set up the documents' transfer, but he has not yet reported to the duty, himself. It is still early in the day, I am being assured the young man is just attempting to get last minute information before Trevor escorts him out of Grecotha. At least that is the news that was passed on to me by Lady Charity." Washburn took Duncan's hands and passed along all the info he had received from Charity's multiple portals trips to him in Arx Fidei. "I was certain we will have Sir Airich back in Rhemuth by tonight."

"I will inform the king," Duncan said, lifting the last of the most important documents to carry out through the Library veil. He huffed at the weight of the pack.  "Send along an assurance that the Bishop's Doomsday Book and his Protocols of Orin are safe in my hands."

Wash knelt to his Archbishop, kissed the ring, but then he stood and hugged the man, his uncle. "We will have the king's will done." Morgan said and disappeared from the portal stone of Rhemuth.

This would be his last jump with the documents. Several others were assisting in the move. Sir Kevin McLain was one among them. Washburn's intentions now were to wait for Trevor and Airich so that he could escort them to Rhemuth. It would be important that Wash and Trevor stood at Sir Airich's back to assure that the young man did not dig himself in deeper with his king than it seemed he already had.

It was perhaps a half-dozen heartbeats that passed before he was standing in Arx Fidei. Kevin McLain was there to greet him, but instead of preparing himself to make his own jump to Rhemuth, Kevin stepped back to reveal the woman, kneeling before the life-sized statue of Saint Camber, in desperate prayer. She crossed herself and stood, turning red, tearful eyes upon the Healer. Lady Charity Arilan rushed across the Cathedral Choir and grasped Washburn's hand in desperation, "Jamyl says there is trouble. Airich...   My baby brother..." she choked on her words as tears drenched her cheeks.

"Show me," Wash insisted, letting her distress fill him as he lowered his shields to gain rapport. In that Rapport, he felt Jamyl's witness to the psychic scream, and then Trevor's acknowledgement that it was his youngest brother who was either wounded or dying in that moment. Wash was absorbing that information when the next images came from Father Trevor, to Jamyl and then to Charity, showing blood pooled in a stable of dirt and hay.

"My brother's body is missing!" Charity managed to blurt out even as her visions from Trevor played out in his mind. 

"Missing?  Did he crawl away looking for help?"

"Trevor doesn't think so; they think he was taken! Who would take Airich and Why?" Charity gripped Washburn's hand fiercely. "You need to come? If he is alive, he needs a Healer, I fear he will need more than just any Healer with the troubles he has been hiding from all of us."

"I will come!" Wash replied, knowing he could do no less.

"Lord Washburn?" Kevin sternly called, committing himself to oppose this action. He stepped between the Baron and the portal stone. "Remember your vow to King and Kingdom. You vowed you would not go to Grecotha. The risk is too high."

"Kevin, Airich is nearly family."

"I am aware of that, in that manner, so am I. And I have a duty to keep you out of harm's way. That is my vow to our King; I will not see my vow forsworn."

A deep in-breath of forbearance passed the baron's lips, his foot tapped impatiently on the floor. Kevin's point was acute and Wash knew he was right, but it hurt him to agree. "I'm forbidden to go to Grecotha," he forced out in frustration.

"You won't come? You won't help? They will need you..." she pleaded at him.

 "Charity, listen to me," Wash finally said to the desperate lady. "Trevor, Jamyl, and even Iain are there already. They will find him, and when they do, they will bring him to me. I will be ready when they come."

The look in Charity's eyes wounded Washburn's Healer soul. "You say more than a quarter-hour has passed since the wounding. If he did not die from the initial attack, then let us pray that there is still time for them to find him and bring him to me."

With a desperate look at Kevin, hoping he could do at least this much, Wash offered what he dared. "My Lady, I will come to Caerrorie with you, so that we will be that much closer," He nodded for Kevin to grab his healing bag and supplies from the seat in the cathedral choir. With Kevin McLain's approval, the three of them portaled to the Shrine of Saint Camber in Caerrorie.

[Laurna]

Streets of Grecotha in the cold downpour of the rain.

"You are looking for Sir Airich," had said the cloaked man, appearing as an apparition from out of the rain.

His enigmatic smile chilled Amy as his voice fell like icy rain upon her memory.

"What do you know? You know where Sir Airich is!" she yelled, not quite knowing why she should fear this man. Yet she refused to give in to her fear. Amy rushed forward, Airich's ward-cubes still gripped in her hand. "Tell me!" she screamed as she dodged from Father Trevor's reach. ((Does Amy dodge away from Father Trevor? Standard roll 2d6  2 + 1 failure))

Focused on her target, she was shocked to find the force of the hand that grabbed her arm and snatched her away from her objective. "Not him!" Trevor hissed to make her stop.

"Let go of me!" she screamed, swinging at the poor man, "He knows where Airich is. I know he knows!"

"Stop fighting me!" Trevor yelped at her. It was clear that his strong hands were not about to let her go, even when her fingers scratched him. Something about the man standing before Jimmy had the priest unnerved. His arms encircled her waist and held her firm. "Amaryllis Aldan, for Airich's sake, will you behave!"

With both hands, she shoved against his arms, causing the small black and white cubes to slip from her fingers.  They bounced on the cobblestones and scattered in every direction all around her. She wailed in dispair and collapsed in the priest's arms.

[Bynw]

The man turns his attention to the outburst of Amy being caught in Father Trevor's arms. And a memory comes to his mind about her. He watches in shock and horror as the ward cubes fall to the cobblestones and scatter about the street.

He quickly reaches for them with both mind and body. Calling them to his outstretched hand. Picking all of them up one by one. "Amyrillas," he says as he comes to her and Father Trevor and hands her back Airich's ward cubes. "These are important not to lose." He cups her hands around the cubes.

"Airich is injured but safe from further Willimite harm. I will take you to him."

[Nezz]

Airich awoke to pain, nausea, and the smell of the color pink singing a descant while a choir of greens released the taste of lilacs blooming. A large badger stood by a fire at the hearth, stirring a wicker basket hanging from a hook. The badger—a handsome creature with intelligent blue eyes—turned and smiled when it saw Airich looking at it, and spoke words of nonsense that smelled like soap bubbles floating from the badger's mouth.

For a moment, the absurdity of his situation pushed his discomfort aside, and he tried to sit up. Big mistake.

"Madre de Dios," he hissed, curling around his middle, where the pain flared brightest.

The badger hurried over to him, whuffling little perfumed squeaks. It laid one paw on Airich's shoulder and the other on his forehead. The pain abated to some degree, and the paw on his shoulder pressed down back onto the pallet he lay on. Exhausted from this minor exertion, Airich didn't fight the beast; just stared at it as it said something that tasted like smoked bacon.

He felt a strange pressure in his head, then felt a snap, like ears popping from diving into deep water.

"...think that should do it. Do you understand me now?" the badger asked as its form changed and it became a tall man, strong and sturdy, bending over him. Only the blue eyes remained the same. "Ah, you do. Good." He straightened. "Merasha can have some unusual effects on people. But I think I've got you squared away properly now."

Airich noticed the man spoke with a strong Torenthi accent, which set his father's teeth on edge. The hand holding his shoulder down spoke of a strength Airich would not be able to combat, had he been so inclined.

Where was he, anyway? And how had he gotten here? Why was he weak and in such pain? And how had he gotten dosed with merasha?

Jasper.

Airich jerked away from the memory of the dirk slamming down on him, impaling him. Of being pinned to the ground, like an insect being tortured by children. Of jeering faces mocking his distress, laughing at his inevitable slow and painful death. This man's face he remembered from the horse stable as well, just before the merasha dreams had broken his connection to reality.

He fought to push the man's arm away, to roll off the pallet and run. But he had no strength, and even that little effort brought the pain back to spasm-inducing levels.

"Be still," the man commanded, and Airich obeyed without thinking. A few moments later, the pain released its clench on his midsection and became mostly bearable again.

"I'm not with them," the man assured Airich. "I'm of your kind." Crimson handfire streamed from his head, cascading like a waterfall around his rugged face. It made him look like a MacEwan. Airich stared at him muzzily, trying to make his eyes focus and see if this was some kind of illusion.

"You've lost a lot of blood, young Deryni, and I've barely got the bleeding under control. Please try to not thrash about and reopen your wounds. Deryni healers are in short supply in Grecotha. As in, there are none." He gestured towards the door behind him. "Even if the Willimites found us, they could break down the walls and shatter the door, yet never pass through the wards protecting us."

Airich felt for the wards, but couldn't detect them. He closed his eyes to concentrate, but still found no sign of wards. In fact, he found no sign of anything. Complete Blindness. He started to panic.

"That's just the merasha, son. I've given you something to take the edge off the worst of it. You should feel your powers begin to wake up soon, although it will still be hours before you're back to normal.

Ah, so instead of helpless among Willimites, he was helpless and at the mercy of an unknown Torenthi Deryni. Who had already given Airich a command which the knight had obeyed without question.

God help me, what is he planning? I am utterly powerless against him!

"It's nothing like that, lad. I'm not here to hurt you. Yes, I've set some controls for your protection. And mine. Merasha poisoning doesn't always negate Deryni powers: sometimes it just makes them uncontrollable. And considering your state of mind when I found you, I'm pleased you hadn't destroyed the stables. Look, let me show you what I've done."
Airich felt a tiny jolt in his head, and then he could See the controls within his own mind: to control sleep, to reduce pain, to monitor his heart rate and breathing... even controls to keep his inner Shields running at a basic level. Which meant that the man understood what they were for.

Bit crowded in here, isn't it? the man, Darius, asked. He was a Torenthi stonemason, just shy of his prime. These memories... they've been here awhile, yes? And unintegrated. I'm surprised you're not a madman. It's an ingenious temporary fix you've created, weaving layers of Shields together into a mesh. I like the way it keeps the extra memories from overpowering your own, while still letting enough of them sift through so the pressure doesn't build up too much. I'd love to hear about how you hit on that idea and executed it so seamlessly. But not now. You want your privacy, I know.

Darius withdrew from Airich's mind and went over to the fire, where he spooned some of the contents of the pot into a wooden bowl. Airich glanced around the room. It looked no different from any room one might expect to find in a city where students were plentiful. Thick glass filled the small window next to a dark, wooden door, and a subdued, tasteful tapestry of forest animals.

His clothes lay neatly folded and stacked next to his pallet. Damp and still dark with his blood. He gingerly reached out and fingered his belt, white no longer, but mottled with rust-colored stains. He released it with a sigh. He wasn't worthy to wear it, anyway.

How had Jasper bested him? He was good, but Airich had proved himself to be the better swordsman. Or so he'd thought. He'd been ready to regain the upper hand when... something... Had he caught his boot against a board while stepping backward? Tangled his feet in a spare bridle laying about? He'd lost his balance so quickly, and then...

Darius returned, and sat cross-legged next to the pallet. He still held the wooden bowl. "It's broth," he said, holding out to Airich. "Simple fare, so it will go down easily without upsetting the balance of your humors."

"'M'not hungry," Airich said after two attempts to get the words out. Speaking above a whisper, he discovered, forced him to breathe deeper than was comfortable. And he couldn't imagine how much pain eating would cause his wounds. "Be dead in a few days anyway." Airich was no healer or even a battle surgeon, but he knew that much about gut wounds. He thought of the dangerous marshy poison of Robert Thorne's broken hand and imagined that growing throughout his abdomen.

"Nay, young sir. You will not die, at least not from this wound," Darius said and set the bowl by his knee. "The dagger passed through without damaging anything vital; you may be sure you would have lost much more blood if it had. Now, I may not have the gifts of the healer, but I do know a thing or two about medicines. The salve I applied will help keep the wounds closed and clean. And the medicines I put into you should keep any infection from taking hold.

Airich glanced at the man, and thought of Elspeth's and Amy's quest. "Talicil?" It was Talicil that had brought Amy into his life.  Are you looking for me, Amy? Are you wondering where I am? Do you think I left Grecotha without telling you goodbye? 

"Among other things. Come, my lord, allow me to help you sit up. Your body needs to produce more blood to replace what it has lost, and this broth will help."

With assistance, Airich managed to sit up enough for the older man to prop him upright with several thick pillows. He was sure Darius must be controlling the pain again, for such a movement had him all but screaming a few minutes before.

Airich stared at the bowl Darius helped him hold steady. It didn't smell poisoned. It looked normal enough. He looked back at Darius. "My brother will be looking for me. I was supposed to meet him. He'll be worried."

"I'm sure he'll be looking for you. We aren't far from the Drunken Parchment. But you are in no condition to travel anywhere yet. Not even to the closest Portal. So please... eat. Then rest. Once you're recovered from the merasha, we can find your brother and reassure him that you're alive and likely to stay that way."

Did he really have a choice?

Airich ate.

***

Darius observed Sir Airich, who slept now—with only a little assistance—after finishing his bowl of broth. He wondered at such a man, blessed with all the world had to offer, and yet so filled with pain and self-loathing and shame from one mistake of poor judgment years passed. It would be intriguing to explore this further, but now was not the time.

He picked up Airich's bloody clothes and took them to the back room to see if they could be salvaged.

[Marc_du_Temple]

"Arrêt!" Eustace squeaked out, eyes wide behind his green glasses and nostrils flared in apprehension. He went from having nobody's attention to everyone's for a brief moment. Somehow that felt worse, beneath the withering gaze of the black haired woman, demanding explanation for his interruption; the eerie patience in the new hooded face that sent a shiver down his spine as though he were a ghost. He could not shake the conviction that the path the man offered to lead them down was a path to hell. "Monsieur Archer..."

To the other searchers, Bede said, "Go ahead without us. We will catch up." As they obliged, he leaned in to speak quietly to Eustace, muffled by the buffeting rain. "What's the matter, man?"

"While Scrivener appears to have found himself, it cannot be denied that we have accomplished much, very suddenly. Yet ... the sickness in my being is gone, replaced by a simple fear. I fear this Deryni who suddenly appeared as if out of thin air. Or maybe he is but a man of clever tricks. Somehow that feels no better, for what tricks have men like us to match someone who holds the cards like he? I hope you consider us to be wholly amended, because at least today, I can go little further."

Bede patted the troubled student's shoulder assuringly. "This life is not for everyone, but today, ye have made a noble effort at it. I must ask the sword from ye." Bede secured it at his belt with a performer's flourish, not a swordsman's. "And two more tasks, that would put me in yer debt: rendezvous with Edwin Scrivener's friends, and tell them to call off the search. Give them as much detail as they require. And the next time ye see fair Muirea ..." Bede hesitated, looking for the words. "Tell her as much and more: tell her that this time, no height nor depth, no men nor Deryni, can prevent our embrace. That I need time to prove my words are na lies, but if I canna ask for time, then I ask for her belief." He laughed like a crow as he shook Eustace's hand, then began to walk away. "What else can I say? I am not immune to fear, myself. God be with ye!"

[Jerusha]

Two mismatched eyes looked directly into the eyes of the cloaked man whose hand is curled around Amy's. 

"Give us a moment," the woman said. 

No inclination of dismay passes across the man's face as he looks at the woman before him.  "Only a moment," he says and releases Amy's hand.  Then he sends a quick call to Sir Iain.

Don't call me Feyd.  Call me Collos.

The Purple Guardsman responds with a barely perceptible nod of his head.

Elspeth turns to Amy, who is beginning to regain her control, although tears of frustration continue to fall down her cheeks. 

"Amy," Elspeth says firmly.  "You must pull yourself together.  What will Father Trevor think of us, if you continue on so."

The priest looks to object, but Elspeth shakes her head slightly and he subsides.

"Us?" Amy asks.  "It's only me who is falling down the abyss of despair!"

"You are my pupil and assistant and your behaviour reflects on both of us.  I have taught you better."

"But all that blood!  How can he still be alive?"  Amy can feel Trevor's arms tense, and he grips her more tightly, as if to steady himself this time.

Elspeth inclines her head toward the man in the cloak.  "He said he would take us to Airich; that tells me that Airich is still alive.  But you are right, so much blood means his injuries are serious.  We must not delay in tending to him."  Elspeth grips Amy by the shoulders.  "You are very capable, Ams, and both Airich and I need your skills.  We can't let him down now."

Amy takes a deep breath and uses her free hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks.  "You are right, as always.  You can let go now, Father Trevor.  I can do this.  I must do this for Airich."

Elspeth gives Amy a quick squeeze then turns back to the man in the cloak.

"Now take us to Sir Airich, if you please."

[Bynw]

The man turns and begins walking, expecting the others to follow him. He talks as he walks.

"He has indeed lost much blood. If my assistant hadn't found him when he did. I am afraid your arrival here would have been too late. He would have bled out and he would have already perished at the hands of Willimites."

"His injuries are too severe to move him currently. But he has been attended to by a battle surgeon. He is in good hands. His other wounds concern me greatly though."

"There are rules that must be followed," he says while he leads them down the rain soaked streets. "Where we are going is protected by a ward.  And it will not be taken down. Once there, I will enter alone, I should come back out in a few minutes. There I will take up to 3 of you inside as the space is limited, one at a time, through the wards under my Shields."

"Do you agree to these terms?"

[Nezz]

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that we accept those conditions," Father Trevor said to the unknown man. "But before we put ourselves in your hands, may we know the identity of my brother's benefactor? You and your colleague?"

The hooded man's eyes swept over Trevor, head to foot, before he said "You may call me Collos," he said in that same tone of voice that hid all emotion or trace of accent. "My colleague's name is Darius."

"Pardon, good father, but I cannot accept those terms," Bede stated. "Obviously you and Amy must see him, and it would be best if our physicker also saw him. But who will make sure the place is safe for the ladies?" Twice today, members of our merry band have been preyed upon when they were alone. And three is such a lovely number.

"You make an excellent point, Archer." The priest faced Collos again. "I have a counter-proposal for you. When we arrive, you take in the ladies' brave guardian first. Let him make his observations, and confirm for himself that his charges will come to no harm, and then you can escort him out again. From there, he'll wait quietly with the other men while you escort we three within your wards. One at a time, as you request.

Will you accept our terms?"

You're pushing your luck, Father, Iain sent to Trevor. This is not a man to trifle with.

"Very well," Collos said, much to Iain's surprise. "I appreciate your concern for the women. But I must still insist upon first entering alone before I return to bring your protector in. Are we agreed?"

"We are agreed."