by Carnath-Emory » Mon Apr 23, 2007 8:34 am
Ariane's reading has improved, but not to that advanced state. Still, shameless eavesdropper that she can be, when circumstances invite, the woman proves able to make out ... some of it. The simpler parts. But what he speaks is far more important than what he writes, for an offer has been made, and it is ... remarkably generous. That the woman is almost immediately doubtful of it speaks more of her nature, than Cinnabar's.
"And the Governor? What does he hear?" But her hand is lifting from the rim of her cup, is briefly setting that question aside, for again Cinnabar has turned his questioning in a direction which she can tolerate.
"I had encountered Baie on two occasions before this, yes? The first, Townsedge: you know this name, Sera Kaczmarek spoke it you. The other -- but we speak of Townsedge first, and then you answer me that thing, mn?"
A small, tidy nod: she has arranged the moment in a manner that pleases her passingly well, and in time -- with wine -- continues.
"But I must first confess that I am not the best to ask, for there were others there, and many who saw more clearly than I. The Captain is long gone from us, but there are men of the Brotherhood who will recall some of this, for Thessilane men were a part of it; many of the Militia surely will. And particularly M'Ser Bromn, but -- " There it is again, that resigned glance towards the door. "It is busy, such mornings.
"Townsedge was ... it was the worst of many things. They say after that it began with a riot, for the people were not much pleased with their Council: they meant to march upon the Meetinghouse, some say now, to demand better things of the Judiciary. They were met by Straka, and by a contingent of Thessilane troops, for it was so large a crowd by then -- ah, but you needn't know such things, mn? Except for this: that there were hundreds there that day, and that not one of them will admit honestly that they saw Baie wounded. He came into the midst of them, and none know how: just that at first they fought Thessilane shields -- for they were guarding the Meetinghouse, you see? But that then they were crushed against them, by their own panic. The Captain meant to fight the beast, and Straka as well, and even the Thessilane --
It came to nothing."
A pause is required here, to reorder thoughts, to sip at wine; to run fingertips lightly across the rim of that mug, as if it were familiar and a touchstone. A nod, at the end of it; a very quiet exhalation.
"He ... tore his way through them. I mean this as no, no ... tale, ser: he tore the limbs from their bodies, or the stomachs from their spines, you see? He was not hindered, even when the Captain dove into their midst, even when Altias did.
"I know not how he took his leave of them: by that time I had seized my ward, and was taking him away."