The Captain and the Bailiff

"Bah!" growled the Captain. "I am no simpleton, nor am I a fool! Clocks and calendars, soothes and sayers, I care not for any of it. We were better off when time was clocked by the birth of ewes, not the coming of terror."

"It is not for Terror that we count the seasons, good friend Captain. It is for the End of Terror."

"Damn piss-poor job you all are doing then, by the looks of it! So here we are, we've got a strange knight and his prostitute servant, a ghetto that was already riled up by signs and wonders and plain fear, and now messages from dead Eusebius! I've got a head-ache, Beney, and I still don't care for tales of wyrms that just can't be true."

"True, it is odd that he would make a lie regarding dragons when the nearest such monster be leagues away and not even within our lands proper, but they did say that they were bespelled. As for Venerable Eusebius speaking from beyond, I did not mean such a thing. Someone else must be behind it, but who or why I cannot fathom. I must return to the Academia Blanc." Benedict thought for a moment and then added, "It would be best if your prisoners were spoken to by your uncle. Perhaps he can get something more out of them."

After the Watcher had left Captain Alaric sat at his table and drank some mead, his head really did ache. Even before the Watcher had made his 'recommendation' he had known that he would have to speak to his uncle. Protocol had to be obeyed, even when others whispered about incompetency and nepotism, even when he knew that his uncle's spies had already told him everything. With one last swig he stood up and made his way to the Lynethe.

The Lynethe, as it was called, was the largest building erected within the plaza of the bailey. Long ago, before the City of Caemlyn came to be, there had been Lynethe Bailiwick - a land of little importance owned by a prince long forgotten and ruled by his loyal bailiff. As politics and war go, that reign came to an end and a new order replaced the old. Caemlyntowne was born but the old motte and bailey was maintained, and over the years it was improved and more people of many stations came and the land prospered. The new Lord of the land moved his seat to Caemlynton (as it was then named) and over the decades it seemed as if the bounty of the heavens and the earth was its due. Finally the Allarian nobility came to the fore and the King of Allaria chose the site as his home and seat. Caemlyn was born anew. Yet the motte and bailey that had served so many masters served still its purpose and so the new King brought in his own Steward and Baillif and -with minor differences- the chain of rule continued on unto this very day in which Alaric, Captain of the Palace Guard, walked into the largest building - the Lynethe - and into the office of his uncle, the Steward of the King, Bailiff Alar Philtrum.

"I hear you had some excitement today, Nephew."

"Yes, Uncle."

"What can you tell me about the prisoners in the gaol, Nephew?"

"What is it that you have not already heard, Uncle?"

And so they talked, Uncle and Nephew, both playing a game of sorts. The younger owed the older for his position, and yet the younger felt much superior to the older, even though local gossip said otherwise. The older well understood the fierce ambition of the younger, and feared it. The older fed tales of the younger's weaknesses to the proper channels and the gossip mill worked its wonders. The older also had a select crew keep an eye on the younger, just in case any mischief was brewing.

"Do not presume that my informants have told me anything regarding this barbarian and his harlot," said Bailiff Alar with a smug smile.

"Dear Uncle, I am surprised you do not know their names - a Frederigo D'Honaire and Irena."

"I never said that I did not know their names, Nephew. But I will say this: the White Hand has no business here, this is a matter for me and me alone. I am responsible for keeping order in the Crown City, I am responsbile for looking after the prisoners here."

"And yet I, dear Uncle, am responsible for the Guard, and it was the Guard who brought in the prisoners. As for old Beney, he is a fool who likes to watch because he has no balls. I take it you know already of the fighting man's strange behavior?"

"Axiom my ass!" laughed the Bailiff. "This is all some kind of game, and you dear Nephew are going to play this game. I want to know who these two strangers really are. I want to know what they have to do with the White Hand. But first, Nephew, I want you to put them in two adjacent cells. We must give them time to talk with each other, don't forget that my informants are everywhere, they shall hear whatever these two strangers speak."

"I have not forgotten your spies, Uncle."

"Oooh, such an ugly word."

"But truthful."

"Oh, dear Nephew, you sound wounded." The Bailiff began to laugh. "You have much to learn about the tongue and its use, watch and learn Nephew, watch and learn."

1. Alaric left the bailey with some guardsmen and walked towards the part of the city which held the Academy and the Tower of the White Hand...
2. King Gerard called the Bailiff and his other Advisors for yet another discussion on the crisis with Vjorica...
3. The peasants of ghetto, specifically one Han Pendagger, talk about the two 'demons' and the need to kill them before holy retribution strikes down the whole City...
4. Fred and Irena are moved to new cells, just as dirty but within speaking distance of each other...

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