Chapter
32: A Brief Inquisition The Spy
Chapter
32: A Brief Inquisition
Chapter 32: A Brief Inquisition
Torana says, "Are they still griping outside?"
"That is... one way to put it”, the steward replies.
Waving in his general direction Torana says, “Magnus go do something about those noisy hens, we don’t need any more attention drawn to us than necessary.”
Magnus walks to the door and opens it. The ladies quickly go silent and turn to face him. They give him a slight curtsy. Their eyes locked firmly upon the Counts seated in the room behind him.
"My master is interested in seeing the formal wear you ladies may have for an evening ball." At these words their eyes go wide and all three pairs of eyes lock on to the squire with an intensity he is only used to seeing in those trying to kill him. He returns their stares evenly and continues, "Please go change and come back, take as much time as you need to look your absolute best."
The young squire turns away from them, closing and locking the door behind him. Even before the door is completely closed, he can hear the sound of the ladies practically running down the hall.
"Well if they are anything like the women we have back home, that should keep them occupied for at least an hour. No one should be eavesdropping on us at the moment, and they shouldn't understand our language even if they did." He smiles a toothy grin as he puts away his amulet. "Although I do not know how the fine details of the orc beauracracy works, I think our best chance of seeing the upper echelons of the rulers would be to spend a few days getting to be well known about the city. We should attend as many events and dinners as possible to make contacts with the actual power holders in the city."
The steward interrupts, speaking broken common, "You don't need worry about being announced. Undoubtedly, word is racing through the capital at this very moment. Being visiting nobles it shouldn't be too long before we are invited to attend a private dinner party or dance." He pauses for several seconds then says, "Nobility that is visiting, it is considered a duty, mingling with others of same kind. They will testing..be testing you to make sure not phony. Will also dangerous it will be for me as I may be recognized more so after the last scandal."
For the first time Magnus realizes that the steward has been speaking broken common for quite some time, it seems his amulet has done all of the translating for him. The squire comes to his rescue by putting the bracelet in the stewards' hand.
Torana says, "Nothing easier to fix a bit of judiciously applied make-up should take care of the problem, I could make you look a bit different."
Jadir looks at him, "Another one of those hidden talents we keep find out about?"
"Naturally my dear boy” Torana replies with an air of utter aristocracy.
"900, if a day” Jadir digs.
"Not even remotely.” Torana responds, “Besides I don't look a day over 150."
A mischevious gleam in his eyes Jair shoots back, "What's that? 1500? Well in that case you do look good for your age."
Torana sniffs, "You're just jealous because if you made it to my age, you'd be so old and wrinkled old women wouldn't touch you for fear of catching that rotting disease."
Nahabidean interrupts the friendly jousting and asks, "What kind of testing do you mean?"
Off hand Torana says, "Well there the bow test and the sniff test and clothes test.."
Jadir growls at Torana, "Will you be serious for a moment!"
The steward says, "Actually he is serious.” He pauses, “though I'm sure there are much more diplomatic ways of putting it."
Jadir looks at Torana with raised eyebrow, "How do you know all of this? Another one of your escapades I assume."
Torana gives him a sly smile, "I'll give you one hint. My niece is a princess."
He gives Jadir a wink and turns back to Nahabidean and in a slightly more serious tone responds, "The first test is a minor one. From the moment we enter the first thing they shall judge is our clothes. I am unfamiliar with the styles that are in fashion here, but any inconsistencies will be attributed to our being from a far away land. Granted it will be a strike against us, but a minor one. The important thing will be to stand tall and proud as if you belong there. Don't slouch as it will mark you as a phony.”
“The second test will be when you are addressed by someone of rank. To those you are directly addressing or are addressing you, if you are of higher rank you give them a nod. If you are of lower rank you give them a bow. The greater the difference in ranks the deeper the bow. And don't go down on one knee unless you are pledging fealty to them. When you are passing by them casually, if they are of higher rank, you nod to them. If they are of lower rank, ignore them. If you are going to see the head of the house or the ruler, you ignore everyone between you and them, except for their children. Address the highest ranking person first then work your way down the line. Watch for slights amongst those of lower rank. If they do not bow low enough, frown slightly. Show minor irritation and then turn your back on them as if they didn't exist if they don't correct themselves immediately. This is very important. Failing this could be a major setback and in some cases, require that your head be separated from your shoulders as they figure out that you are a phony."
As he pauses, the sound of scratching fills the air, Magnus turns to find Vel'im scribbling furiously. Oddly enough he has managed to keep up with the conversation as he pauses just before Torana continues, "When you are up close or in private company, your scent will be very important. Peasants don't take baths, nobility takes baths now and again and royalty take them whenever they feel, which can be quite often. But for the most part if you stink, you will be shunned. Many choose to cover their scents with expensive perfumes. I prefer simply to take a bath. It's easier on the nose." He gives a sly wink. "Also always remember to speak clearly and confidently on everything you speak about as if it happened to you personally. Don't let them out bluff you, but don't lie directly. It will almost always come out."
Torana goes on at length about various rules and customs he thinks they will encounter.
Finally in a lull Magnus asks, "This brings me to another point, What can we possibly say to these rulers that would convince them that the war is not in their best interest? From what I have seen they have more wizards than we do and more magic in the hands of the soldiers. What do we have to bargain with? Have any of this been through out?"
Torana and Jadir turn to Nahabedian.
Nahabedian shrugs, "I am a diviner. I knew that we would be coming here. But I did not know what we would do when we got here. Merely that we were destined to come this way."
Jadir snaps, "What?!? I thought you had some kind of plan ready!"
Nahabedian shrugs again.
"Well," Torana says, "first we need to find out exactly what is going on around here. The appearance of three strange Counts should cause a bit of stir amongst the local nobility. They will consider it to be a bit of curiosity. Doubtless if we do this correctly we should start receiving invitations no later than tomorrow to private balls and the like."
"Tomorrow? What do we do until then? Investigate and ask questions?"
"Absolutely not!" Torana and the steward cry in unison.
The steward continues in a calmer tone, "You are conspicuous by your rank. I am conspicuous by my family. We shall have to leave it up to the good squires here to do any investigations. It will seem more natural from them and have less chance of causing a stir. As much as I hate to admit it I was a bit distracted by the journey and the prospects of getting home and didn't think about what would happen when we arrived."
Jadir stares up at the roof thinking, “Oh great here we are behind enemy lines, no plan we have to depend upon a pair of half-wits for information and our guide is hated even more than we are.”
Magnus asks, "Professor, could you tell us how your people are governed...are the posts inherited or are they voted in by nobles and such? From what I have heard and seen, I have guessed that the rulership is broken up among separate branches like the military and magical each separate, or am I mistaken."
"That is an interesting theory, but the power lies solely with the noble council. Well actually it resides with the king, but more often than not they agree on everything, after all the council members were, in theory, handpicked by the king from various provinces. The Kings word is law and even the council abides by that, but then the King almost treats his position as if it were a trophy. To be seen and revered but not often trotted out."
"The Home Guard controls and coordinates all of our defenses. Normally there is a standing small force used for the occasional outbreak of a disease, famine, or other acts of the gods. Since the war between our peoples began the ranks of the Guard swelled with recruits who lined up in droves to join.
The King had come out and given a patriotic speech and the council could do nothing but join him. Classes in the universities dropped to about half their normal size. Sadly many of my most promising students also joined. Now I may never see them again."
Realizing that he has drifted off subject the steward shakes his head and says, "There is a Council of the Magi, but that is solely for the regulation of those who have chosen to direct their career path as we have. Some are in it for the knowledge, most are in for the money. This reminds me, you two squires had best be careful what magic you perform. If someone suspects you, they will ask what schools you attended, who your teachers were and how far your studies have come. If they are not satisfied, it is possible they could have you brought up before the board and tested. Given your teachers...umm distinctive teaching methods. You'd be charged with unlawful knowledge, possession and use of unsafe abilities, that's what they call the uncontrolled runes, and summarily imprisoned and/or reeducated. A second offense guarantees the death penalty. The same goes for you Counts as well. You wouldn't suffer the indignity of being imprisoned, but it would cause quite a scandal. And frankly the monarchy isn't too lenient on those who cause scandals these days. As I well know."
A knock at the door sends Magnus back to other side of the room, after retrieving his amulet. The Counts and the steward stare out the window looking completely bored.
Greeting the squires eyes are three of the most magnificent women he has ever seen. The first dressed in a light green ball dress that has a frilly white collar accenting her face, which has been made up flawlessly. Her hair styled up in ball above the back of her head. Her bodice opens wide revealing a good portion of her ample bosom before it slims down at the waist and opens up again in an inverted cup shape to drop gracefully to the floor.
The second dressed in aqua colored dress of similar style to the first one, but not revealing nearly as much up top and lacking the collar.
As for the third woman... well... Magnus never gets past the eyes. Haunting and mysterious, pleading yet demanding. They seem to draw him in. But the spell is broken by the sound of Vel'ims jaw hitting the floor.
Magnus recovers and returns to the first one who is trying to edge past the bothersome squire blocking her way. He moves further into the hall forcing her back and taking her attention away from the Counts. He closes the door blocking their view then he walks back and forth examining them with a critical eye. In return the women give him a little less than half their attention as they wait impatiently for permission to see the Counts.
At least until he speaks, "This will never do!" He turns quickly on his heel toward the third woman. For a moment his mind goes blank as he stares into her eyes the shining pools of light that threaten to engulf him, "Count Naga would prefer you dress in a different color. This is his least favorite color. Though don't wear anything garish. He cannot stand that." Magnus gestures and finally realizes she is wearing a light blue dress, not nearly as fancy as the others and much more suitable for a formal occasion than a ball. Her eyes shine bright and he can see tears well up, as she gives him a curtsy and says, "Yes my lord of course. I wasn't quite sure of his tastes. I'll change immediately."
Turning to the second woman he says, "And Count Ja'dir would prefer something a little...flashier. He prefers his escort to stand out. This is much too dull and drab for him."
She flashes him a wide smile and winks, "Of course my lord", she says rather enthusiastically. Her attitude makes him think that she was waiting for just such an opportunity. He suppresses the sudden urge to shiver and turns away to the third woman.
She stands straight her back arched she looks down at the squire. Which isn't remarkable considering she is a little taller than he is. "Tsk, Tsk. No, this won't do that won't do at all. Count To'ran is most selective in his escorts." He takes the pin out of her hair and lets it down. Her eyes go wide and a look flashes in her eyes that promises torture and unending pain.
Pretending not to notice he continues, "The hair must be worn down, natural and flowing. It must seem as if it took no effort at all to look beautiful because you were born that way and will die that way. The gown must have more material, but reveal more of the beauty beneath."
"Showing even more of my beauty than this?" She counters by leaning forward giving him a more than ample view of what she has to offer. Magnus quickly turns so that is he is addressing all three and lectures, "To be escorts to the Counts, you must always look your best. You are the jewels that adorn their clothes and must shine out to have them appear their best."
Steadfastly pretending to ignore the generous view of the woman's bosom. Magnus concentrates on the second woman, as she is the only one of the three that doesn't attempt to break his concentration. He reaches into his purse and hands them a few coins saying, "Take these and purchase anything you need to make the ecessary adjustments." The ladies general bubbliness at being given money to go on a shopping trip distracts the squire enough that he is unsure just how much he gave them.
He turns and enters the room closing the door behind him and finds Vel'im in the middle of an inquisition.
The Counts stop and call Magnus forth and begin asking him questions about him and his past. Confused Magnus answers every question easily. He is confused because the things they are asking about are events Torana already knows. When it comes down to the final question Torana asks, "What race are you?"
"Human", Magnus answers automatically. At this they give a sigh of relief, but don't explain why they wanted to know all the questions. Vel'im stands by also confused.
The Counts then move on to other topics. Oddly enough the color of the flowers in the garden seems to be the most important topic.
Shrugging Vel'im reviews his scrolls, and Magnus review their funds.
Magnus looks at his funds thinking, "Room one night 18 Gintas, dinner 10 Ramada's. I've got 42 Gintas, which is enough for three nights and 68 Ramada's, which is enough food for six meals. I wonder what these coins here." He idly fingers a dull gray coin. "I have 23 of these what did he call them...Selya's."
He whispers in the stewards' ear and pulls him away from the incredibly stirring conversation about the severity of a gentle wind on the flowers.
"There are five Quintas to the Ramada, six Ramada's to the Ginta, 12 Gintas to the Selya and 2 Selya to the Pheras." The steward elaborates. "Pheras are very difficult to obtain and a mere innkeeper regardless of his income would not have them. I'm glad to see he didn't try and insult you by giving you a bunch of Quintas."
Satisfied that at the current rate of spending they should have enough money to last a few days. Of course, he realizes that back home this amount of money would have easily lasted months.
He attempts several times to get the attention of the Counts' before succeeding and says, "I suggest a shopping trip might be in order, considering our luggage is camping supplies as opposed to noble attire.
The steward says, "Excellent idea, Magnus. You and Vel'im should go and find a good tailor and have him come here. Also see what you can do about our luggage. Tell him you need suits for three Counts for a ball tomorrow night. Remember your status, paying the proper respect is as important as making sure you receive it."
Vel'im asks, "How do we know when to bow?"
The steward says, "You are of higher rank than most of the peasants so just ignore them if you see fit. If you see anyone dressed fancier than you and people are running to get out of their way, then simply step aside and give a slight bow. Unless you see people dropping to their knees then you give them a deep bow."
He is interrupted by a knock at the door. This time it is the owner, "It is my extreme please to announce that dinner awaits you. We have taken the liberty of reserving the Iveris dining room for your pleasure."
After several long moments of staring out the window the Counts get up and are escorted to a sumptuous dining hall on the second floor with a view on one side of a lovely indoor garden that has a statue of a warrior in full regalia standing proud. The plaque underneath with symbols the steward translates as, `Iveris'. On the other side, they overlook a large room that has musicians playing along with others waiting to eat. The Counts are announced as they enter the room and are served almost immediately. The others are served shortly afterward. After a lengthy dinner with little enlightening conversation, unless you consider a sarcastic discussion of importance of proper eating utensils in stopping wars enlightening.
They soon retire to their rooms. The steward gets his own room, but the squires are still bunked together. This room is still better furnished than anything at home, but similar to the first inn he came across.
The squires look around the plushly furnished room. There is no doubt this room is furnished to encourage laziness and long long naps. They find their luggage stacked neatly in a corner.
Vel'im flops down on one of the beds and relaxes.
Magnus says, "I'm going out to get some information."
As he leaves Vel’im mutters something about liking the orc life style.
Magnus stops off at the stewards’ room to pick up some information, "Professor I am going to go for a walk around the city to familiarize myself with the layout. Are there any curfews or laws that I should be aware of before doing so?"
Glad to see that at least one of his charges is thinking a little bit ahead the steward gratefully advisies him, "No official curfews, though the Patrol will be looking around in askance at everyone after midnight. Just use your head, stay out of trouble and remember what we told you and everything should be alright. While there is no ban on weapons, people will look in askance at you and you will attract attention if you wander the capital armed like a bandit."
Magnus is a little hesitate to ask his next question but does so anyway. "Also I am curious as to whether orc females use magical charms or such things to help attract men?" Seeing the look that passes over the stewards' face he quickly adds, "I ask this because I was struck with a very strong attraction to one of the Counts escorts..." He stops as he realizes he's just digging himself in deeper and the Steward is trying hard (and failing) to hide a smirk.
Quickly realizing that the boy is serious the steward, coughs and says, "Well women do tend to use all sorts of charms and perfumes to attract men. It isn't inconceivable that that a few might be able to pick up a charm or two to make themselves seem more attractive. But then again it could be just hormones. After all you are a young man and it is spring is it not..."
Magnus takes his leave and begins his search for a tailor, leaving behind the steward who muses, “Ah to be young again during the mating season. I wonder how long it is until Hithea.”
After a talking to a few of the staff, the young mage heads out into the night with his cane.
He wanders through the quaint buildings looking for the tell tale sign indicating a tailor. The brightly lit streets are only sparsely occupied, a few groups move through most give a polite bow and/or curtsy. There are a few orcs dressed similarly to him, which give him a tip of their hat or a nod as they pass quickly by. Not knowing what else to do he returns the nod and continues on his way.
It is not long, however, before he realizes that he is being tailed by no less than four people. Three on one side and a fourth on the other hanging a little further back than the others. A quick look around reveals no authority figures and as near as he can tell he hasn't wandered into a bad part of town. On either side tall homes with small gates line the road.
A rock shatters a nearby lamp plunging the area into relative darkness.
Magnus turns and raises his cane defensively before realizing that it is only half the size of his normal staff.
He tosses his cane up and catches in the center and heads toward the hidden shadows. When he turns toward them they all freeze in place. As he nears them he senses their presence instead of seeing them. As he approaches, three of them change their positions to attempt to surround him.
He turns toward the nearest shadow, feverently wishing that Torana had taken the time to teach him some of those hand-to-hand combat skills, and says, "Excuse me, would any of you happen to know any good taverns in the area? All this walking about has brought up a terrible thirst." He glances at each of the three in turn, ignoring the fourth who has decided to keep its distance.
The three shadows pause in their advance. The shadow that Magnus is facing appears suddenly, plainly confused. "Er..Good evening sir." He bows hesitantly, his outfit a shabby mockery of what the squire is wearing. His jacket brown and made of a thick coarse material. The young orc, looks up at him and his mouth moves but nothing comes out for a second.
"Hullo there guvner!!" Comes a voice from the darkness, "If you'll buy me a drink I'll show you a place that has the best lager this side of the capitol!"
The fourth shadow moves forward toward the squire.
The young orc vanishes and all three invisible shadows move quickly away from the pair.
Into what is left of the light, walks an orc probably as old if not older than Magnus appears. Dressed similarly to the first one, but he has patches on the elbows, a spring in his step and a smile on his face.
He stops and gives a deep bow, "Jerpip Deseerac At your service guvner! I knows this city like the back of my hand!"
Magnus looks at the orc in front of him and then smiles. He gives the orc a quick nod and says, "Greetings Jerpip, I am the Squire Mag'nus. I would be most please if you showed me where this fine lager may be had. If it is as good as you say, perhaps I will buy you some as well."
The smile on Jerpips face widens even more and he says, "I guarantee it."
Making sure the other three shadows are not regrouping for another attempt the Squire Mag'nus follows his new guide down several streets now quite alert for any further encounters.
After a few moments Magnus asks, "So tell what was that incident just before? Were those three ruffians trying to waylay me, or were they just having a harmless prank on someone new in town?"
Jerpip answers politely, "They were just common lugs who happened to get lucky hitting a nobleman once and picking up those rings that make them turn invisible. I saw them before they turned invisible. That's how I knew they were up to no good and followed them."
It isn't long before they have entered a much wider well-traveled street. Here though there are many people walking through the streets it is not overly crowded. Jerpip walks a few steps ahead saying, "Clear the way! Clear the way!" The few people that do move out of the way give Magnus a polite nod/bow/curtsy as they pass. On his way Magnus makes a mental note of where the (now closed) tailor shop is located. It isn't long before they enter an establishment with a blue ox on a signpost next to the door.
As they enter a rather large orc takes in Jerpip and immediately stands up from a table and casually starts walking toward the door. Jerpip flashes him a smile steps aside and says, "This way guvnor Mag'nus." As Magnus enters the door he takes in the small cozy room in a glance. The expression on the large orc changes just as he changes course heading toward the bar to flag down a bartender as if that was where he was going all along.
Each table has a single candle to stave off the general darkness. Despite the low lighting it is not a gloomy atmosphere, subdued but not threatening. In one corner of the room stands what looks to be a stringed instrument used by wandering minstrels except this one is much larger.
Jerpip leads Magnus to a small table near the back wall. A waitress appears promptly and Jerpip orders something called 'Ferrans Lake'. The waitress returns with a pair of mugs with a liquid that is almost clear with a slight bluish tint. Magnus drops a coin on her plate and Jerpip salutes him with his drink "You're too kind guvnor". Magnus takes a sip and then another. True to Jerpip's word it is by far the best Magnus has ever had.
After a few sips Jerpip asks quietly, "If you don't mind me asking guv, I want to know is how did you know they were there? Last I heard those bums were on a pretty successful streak. According to the rumors, no one has seen them coming or going before. Yet, you knew where they were and why they were there and you didn't even seem to care. I take it you got some special training or something? Either you're very brave or very foolish."
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