Escorting Doña Leandra back to Don Octavio's box, the Heroes related the affair of the escaped bull, and accepted Don Octavio's thanks for their quick intervention. Doña Leandra proposed a party for a few days ahead, after the next bullfight, at which the Heroes hesitated. The last big party had been a bit of a disaster for them in San Cristobal, and they were not eager to repeat the experience, but they yielded at last to their hosts insistence that the people needed a chance to celebrate, and something good to inspire them. Agreeing to meet again for the next match, they bade their farewells.
Henri found his thoughts turning again to the elusive Lieutenant, and purchased a blank book in the way home, in which to start composing verse, for so his fancy turned. The evening was spent on a rather inventive piece (Wits + Oratory, 34), and the next few days were spending enjoying the town, and writing further. A couple of poems suggested themselves (W + O 13, 15), and as Henri began to wonder about the return of Master Elijah Basquez, and dwelt upon the painful separation that the two had had to endure, inspiration hit, and he began to rhapsodize over the pain of wondering whether Audra were alive, well, happy, or smitten by another (W + O, 60! One of those dice exploded four times!). Reminded of the Rose and Cross Knight, the Heroes decided to pay him a visit to learn of any good news that might have come.
They found him in the midst of a huge building under construction. The Chapterhouse in Tarago would take up nearly an entire city block, and while the main exterior was in place, many interior secrets were still being provided for. Master Basquez was good enough to take the Heroes aside, share a light meal with them, and confirm that his daughter was due to arrive the following day. They agreed to meet to help welcome the young lady home, and even to help with a bit of construction if need be. Before they left, Henri, inspired by a sudden whim, asked whether the young lady had a dueña. Told that she did not, he then asked if a dress and perhaps a shoe might be borrowed, so that she might have something new and delightful to wear after her homecoming. Master Basquez looked quizzically for a moment at the Montaigne, then agreed.
Stopping at a dressmaker's on the way back to El Caballo d' Oro, Henri began to give his list of requirements to the proprietress. Something soft and comfortable, something fancy and beautiful was needed. She interrupted to ask whether he wanted one dress or two. He replied in the negative, and added his thoughts on the third and fourth garments, with shoes to match each. The lady's name was asked, as the proprietress assumed that the young dandy had acquired a new mistress whom he was eager to please. She goggled on hearing that he didn't know her name, and tallied the order at perhaps fifty Guilders, offering to have the new wardrobe ready in two or three days. Henri raised an eyebrow.
"Here are two hundred Guilders. Hire more seamstresses. I want these ready by tomorrow afternoon. Wait-- here is fifty more. Simple jewelry to accompany these dresses will also be needed."
The Heroes left the good woman with doubloons in her eyes, and a busy shop, and returned home. The following day was spent limbering up at the Swordsman's Guild hall, and dressing for the homecoming, then picking up such items as had not already been delivered to Master Basquez's house. The Chapterhouse was still buzzing with activity when the Heroes arrived. Tyros had been dispatched to the city limits, others to what would be the rooftop when it was complete, and the Master paced nervously back and forth as the minutes dragged by. Henri urged the fellow to eat and drink a little something to calm his nerves. Finally, a voice shouted down from the lookout,
"They've reached the north gates, and are headed this way!"
The next ten minutes dragged by even more slowly, if that were possible. At last, a pair of red-robed priests entered, with a palanquin in tow. One priest produced a document, which he unfolded and read aloud. Señorita Basquez was found innocent of all charges leveled against her, and was henceforth to be considered in all respects a Martyr of the Church. Further, her word was to be taken as true by all, and to question her veracity would be considered a crime punishable by the Vaticine Church. Henri nodded with a small smile on his lips.
Finally the curtain was drawn aside, and a very pale hand extended. A young woman, in plain black dress and cloak stepped clumsily from the palanquin. Her black hair hung over her face, and she walked with difficulty. At this, Elijah stood stiffly, unable or unwilling to show his emotions before the agents of the Inquisition. She stood as stiffly, and then the two rushed toward one another. They embraced, and Elijah's voice was heavy with love, as he brushed her hair away from her face to reveal the long ragged scar tearing across her left cheek, extending downwards from the open and empty socket of her left eye. He bit back a howl of anguish and fixed the Inquisitor with a look that was all too clear.
The priest then produced a heavy sack, offering compensation for the necessary inquiries, and waiting for the girl's father to take the money that was offered for the mutilation of his child. Finally, Henri stepped forward, accepted the bag, and placed the document and bag together on the ground. At last, the Inquisitors left, leaving Elijah shaking with rage. Quinn and Henri asked to examine the young lady, who allowed herself to be led to her chambers. With Elijah looking on, the scar was examined. It was weeks old, left to thicken and harden by neglect or conscious insult. The eye was hopeless. Further examination revealed that the young lady's limp was due primarily to the absence of the left big toe. Henri suggested that Quinn speak with the skilled surgeon with whom he had trained in San Cristobal, and that perhaps some measures might be taken to diminish the marks left by her ordeal.
With apologies, and promises to help in any way they could, the Heroes left for heavy drink. Henri mused upon the irony of the scar upon the face of his beloved Audra, so close to that on the young Señorita, and on his earlier linking of the two women in his mind. He also began to ponder modifications to the shoes they'd purchased, with hard supports to hold the foot more solidly and provide a steadier, firmer gait. He snatched up paper and excused himself to the latrina, after writing.
My dear brother Reynard,
I need for you to contact a Master Glazier, one who is truly inspired in his craft. I require a glass eye to be constructed-- not for myself, let me rest your mind on that account-- but for someone else. The eye should be a clear and limpid chestnut brown, and as beautiful a thing as human hand can make. Please inform me of what measurements are needed. Bill my solicitor in Paix for any work.
Henri
In the latrina, Henri waited until others left, then quickly tore a hole in the fabric of the world. Handing off the letter to his brother, he let the hole grow shut and whirled about as a snarling dog strained to get at him through the alley fence. With a curse, the sorcerer hefted a handy rock and sent the beast yelping and limping off. His business concluded, the task of intoxication was once again undertaken.
The Heroes returned to El Caballo as shifts were changing, in the wee hours before dawn, with Quinn supporting Cecil, and Henri listing slightly to starboard. On the stairs, he leaned against the wall to let several workmen pass, and heard the commotion of bodies falling. Opening his eyes again, he turned to hear the remaining fellow complain that Henri had tripped them, and a bit of other Castillian abuse he did not quite catch. Apologizing, he began to make his way back upstairs, as a word struck his ear.
" ...bastardo... "
He drew himself up, returned to the man, and looked carefully to see if a Guild Pin was in evidence. Finding none, he instructed the offender that satisfaction would be required for such language. Seeing the man wore no sword, and learning that he had none ("but I have my knife!" he slurred, waving it about), Henri drew out a twenty Guilder note, handed it to the fellow, then snatched it back writing upon it,
I will purchase a sword, with which to defend my honor before Henri du Paix, on the morrow, in front of El Caballo d' Oro, and I will bathe first, because I am a stinking, drunken pig, and I will do this before going to work in the evening.
"I'm sure he can find someone who reads Montaignais by then," Henri muttered.
In the morning, over breakfast, he realized to his horror that he had challenged someone to a duel for that afternoon. As Don Octavio arrived to greet the his friends for lunch, the Heroes passed on the news of Señorita Basquez, along with their resolution that they would not permit the Inquisition to take another person away, not while the Heroes lived. Upon hearing of the duel, though, the Don brightened considerably. He eagerly began to plan his wagers, and expressed his wish for a good view of the proceedings.
That afternoon, a crowd had gathered in front of the inn. Juan Lucas de Lario, Henri's opponent, had dressed, not fashionably, but at least well. His new sword hung at his waist. Greetings were exchanged, with each observing the other's courage to appear, and seconds inspected the weapons. Juan also returned the note observing that he had no need of charity to purchase a weapon. Henri accepted it, and suggested it be spent on wine to follow the combat of honor. With that settled, the match began.
Henri found the Castillian skilled, but manageable. He took a few hits himself, and found himself bleeding heavily soon, but he had himself scored several telling blows (Best wound, a 28 that brought the Wound Check TN to 44, at which Poney rolled a 4. Faced with the prospect of taking 3 DW at once, she spent seven or eight DD to get the Wound Check above 24... ). Finally, Juan stepped back, and yielded. Henri accepted, and praised the fellow's skill and courage. With compliments exchanged, and the matter settled, wine was opened. Quinn stitched up slashes quite handily, and an evening of celebration commenced.
Perhaps the streak of misfortune had finally broken. Perhaps the party would go off without a hitch, and the bullfight would be free of mishap. Certainly, Henri hoped, the young lady Basquez would recover her health and good humor soon. Surely now, the worst was behind him.