Jashen leaned into Azi slightly, wishing the embrace were more than comradely, but knowing it would never, could never be. "I can do it," he said, biting his lower lip into his teeth. "I guess I have to do it," he said quietly, as a shudder raced up his spine.


His love for his brother was unquestionable, and deep. He'd hate it, but if it would get D'Vena's attention so fully on Crispian to allow Azi to explore and report back where she was...He had to take the shot at it, painful though it was.


"Give me a couple days to plan and make things ready," he said as he slid away from her. "And for you to recover fully."

 

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"I pray that two days is not too long to wait. She's busy, Jashen, far too distracted for my liking." Azi rose and patted Jashen's shoulder.


"I was planning to hunt a bit today, my muscles are getting spoiled with all of this rest. I haven't been sore for days," she grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll go back home though, and get some rest, I suppose. If anything at all occurs, or if you wish even to talk, you can find me there."


She rinsed and dried the mug and Jashen's tankard and set them on the shelf, then turned to him. Her expression turned solemn and gentle as she rested a hand on his head.


"May the Almighty give you strength, dear friend. The sacrifice you make is the for the triumph of all that is good. May He bless you and watch over you in your struggle." Softly, she whispered, "It will come to a good end, Jashen, and Cris will understand when all is done."

He watched her go from the League Hall again. How many times had he watched her leave? He smirked at his own silliness. Then his mind turned to his upcoming task, and a great uneasiness settled over him.


He was now an infiltrator, a sometimes scout and sometimes assassin. And it seemed his first assassination would be his own brother's heart.


With a grim look, he got up and went to the chambers he used when at the Guild Hall. He was in no mood for company, of any sort.

 

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She took a different route home, worrying about the events to come. She avoided the forge, and the more crowded areas of the city, hoping desperately that she would run into no one.


Even Pappa wasn't there when she arrived at home, thankfully. She didn't care to explain anything at all, to anyone, even to him. She set a kettle on the hook and tossed a thick log onto the low embers, then trudged up the stairs.


Even out of her armor, the weight of everything pressed her down. She pulled on a soft shift and dropped onto her bed, wondering how on earth she was going to get any rest at all knowing the course of events that would unfold in the next few days.

/Saturday morning Bump!

Arcalan slid down from her perch in the League Hall. He cloth boots made barely a sound as they touched the floor, and her slender form slid out of it's hiding place totally unobserved by either Jashen or Azi, just as she'd snuck out of the way of a few harsh owners from time to time. She smiled to herself that she could evade an infiltraitor, even if he hadn't been training very long.

Interesting things were afoot, that much was sure. Jashen would bear Crispian's soul to the core, Azi would push on with some plot to bring D'Vena into the open... hmm.

She made her way merrily into the bustling street, and began a soft song, swaying her hips as she strode ever more confident down the street.

What had Jashen meant, "we might even use Arcalan?" Nothing good alas. Jashen would provide her with a window of oppertunity unlooked for, and she'd have to take that when it came. So if he wanted her in on the plan so much the better, this time she wanted to help out.

As she passed behind a caravan of wares she recalled the owner being a particularly brutal man she'd encountered in Ludlow one night "earning her keep". She fought down the urge to kill him outright with a spell, and instead marked a glyph on his caravan so she could track him after he went home from market day. A little light revenge would cap this day off nicely. She threw her cloak wide so it rippled out behind her as she strutted along.

She continued to head through the streets into the Shadow Quarter, only to see a familiar face running down the alleyway towards her.

"Brother Tobyas" she smiled lavishly at the fun this encounter may provide "I receieved a note saying you wished to speak to me?"

Azi drifted awake feeling warm and safe in the comfort of her own soft bed. She rolled onto her side and blinked into the dim light of her room. A blue-robed cabalist rose from Azi's writing desk and lowered himself onto the bed beside her, and her heart leapt with happiness.


“My sweet love!” She leaned and hugged him tightly. “What haste you must have made to arrive so quickly!” She covered her mouth as she yawned, and Ascot smiled warmly at her, but his expression soured quickly.


“Your letter frightened me, love. What manner of secret would you keep from me?” Azi fell back against her pillow and closed her eyes, and she felt Ascot’s gentle hand caressing her forehead. He knew of Crispian’s curse, and now it was time to tell him her part in it.


“So many things have happened, Ascot. It seems I am a magnet for curses.” Ascot’s hand tensed and fell away.


“What do you mean, dearest?” His voice faltered.


"Ascot, it was terrible.." She explained to him the day the tome had arrived, and how she had opened and read it.


“Oh, Azi!” He said with disapproval, as if to scold her. He changed his mind, instead reaching his arms around her and pulling her close to him. "Oh, sweetie. What happened?" Azi flinched at his concern for her, knowing the story would only get worse from this point.


"Somehow I was transported to D'vena's hidden mansion," she hated herself for telling him this, for worrying him so. She choked back a cry, "and she worked sorcery on me.."


"What kind of sorcery?” Ascot interrupted, his blue eyes flashing with anger, “and are you still cursed?"


"I am indeed," Azi lowered her eyes to the quilt, twisting and untwisting its hem between her fingers as she spoke. "I know not what kind it was, but I do know it was hasty.."


"Oh dear. Then what are we doing here? We should make haste to my study and find a cure!" He jumped up from the bed, pulling her toward him, but she let go of his hand and slumped back again to her pillows, shaking her head.


"No, love. Listen. I found myself acting strangely, and ran into Jashen in Camelot. He brought me to Vetusta Abbey and told them to lock me in." Ascot gry-blue eyes flashed with anger. Then he nodded, as if going over the scenario in his head.


"That is why I could not find you home..." He murmured, coming to sit beside her again. Azi’s pulse quickened as he took her hand and kissed it softly.


“Yes...I was not at home for quite awhile. But I was at church, praying, and somehow I found I was able to control D'vena, though it was exhausting." His eyes widened as she spoke, and his hand froze in place, still holding hers tenderly.


"Control her? How so?" He leaned in close. Azi drew a deep breath and shivered, growing weary of her own explanation of it.


"By pushing toward her evil when it took hold of me, I could find her, the source, and control her with my own motions."


"Be careful Azi!!” Ascot gasped, taking up her other hand and leaning in closer. “You do not know what this evil can do to you!" Azi tried hard to control herself, but she was shaking with the truth of his words. She had known that all along, but nobody had ever put it so simply to her before. And the words meant so much more coming from the man she loved.


"Ascot,” she said slowly, worried that he may take her meaning the wrong way, “Crispian has been a dear friend to me. To watch him suffer as he has...and to know that I alone hold the power to stop the witch.." She burst into tears, unable to continue, and Ascot drew her in, holding her close to him. Their hearts beat in rhythm with one another as they sat in silence, Ascot rocking Azi gently in his arms.


“Why did you not tell me...” he whispered softly, and after she didn’t answer, “It's alright dear. I know he is your dear friend. I just wish you would have told me. Perhaps there is an easier way."


"Would that there was!” Azaeli moaned, burying her head into his chest, “But already Jashen has a plan. And I am part of it." Ascot squeezed her even closer.


“Please be careful.” He stroked her knotted hair, knowing that her mind was made up to help, and he wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise. “If I was to lose you.... then you'd truly see a man in agony and pain."


"Oh, Ascot!” She cried, about to say aloud what she had been keeping shut inside her heart for days now, “I wish I had nothing to do with this!"


“As do I, love, as do I.” He murmured into her hair. “But it is too late for such regrets. Is there anything that I can do?" Azi wiped the tears from her eyes and rested her cheek on Ascot’s chest.


"I've told Jashen I will rest until his plan is laid out.” She pulled away, searching his gray-blue eyes, “Stay with me?"


"I will stay with you.” He answered softly, pulling her close again. “I hope my love for you will keep you safe."


"As do I, my dearest.." Azi whispered. Thoughts of the task ahead fell away as he rocked her gently. Eventually, Azaeli fell into a deep, contented sleep in the arms of her love.

/morning bump

Tobyas greeted Arcalan. He had not expected her to come to him so quickly, but it was just as well. He knew the study he had taken to using here at the church was warded against most manners of magic, and had paid a bit extra to ensure cabalist magic was most closely checked. He smiled pleasantly at her as he got them both some wine from a sideboard.


“I am pleased you have come, Arcalan,” he said as he handed her a goblet of silver with a filigree design on it. The old church had many such items little used in these days. That was a pity, he thought. The Lyonesse white was a good vintage and not too sweet for the time of the day. “I trust you know that we both have been watching each other, and others?” he asked rather directly. A time for coyness might have been, but he felt that now was hardly such a time.


Arcalan favored him with a tight smile of her own. “Yes, I must confess. But I have to tell you, Tobyas, I do not know what I have done that could cause such interest in me, a lowly caster of some minor spells.” She tried to look winsome, but the look did not sit well on her. She knew her powers were now beyond that of this little priest. Let him try to be a threat. “I do not merit the scrutiny I have been under, truly.”


Toby controlled a smirk and managed to keep his expression even and unchanged. “Well, there has been some acrimony surrounding you within the Hall, you must admit,” he said neutrally. “And you have been at open odds with both Crispian and Jashen.” He knew quite a bit about her comings and goings around the town but had to weigh carefully what he said now. This could be a deadly situation if he did not play it right. “All I wish to speak of, however, is the matter with D’Vena. You own pursuits, I speculate, are not the same as hers. True?” He kept his eyes on hers to see how she would play this.


Annoyance flickered there for a moment. Just how much had this boy upstart figured out? And who did he have watching her? She had been much more careful than before since ferreting out and removing the threat of Tannir. “Why I know not what goals you speak of Tobyas. I am a faithful daughter of the League.” Her innocent act played out no better with him, she noticed, than it did with others. Damn them all to the death they had coming, she thought.


A knock at the door interrupted them. Tobyas, in a slither of chain mail rings against each other, rose and went to door, speaking in a low tone with whomever was there. Arcalan tried to catch what was being said, but the distance and the fact that they spoke toward the hallway and not toward her, kept her from hearing much of anything.


He came back to his desk, but did not resume his seat. “Arcalan, I am afraid I must cut my time with you short. Lady Wynchell, his Majesty’s Cleric, has asked my assistance. I must attend to Mother Church first it seems,” he informed her. His look was perturbed enough that Arcalan could accept that at least as somewhat true.


“Of course, Tobyas, we all must obey our higher masters, yes?” She finished her wine and rose with Avalonian grace. “We shall continue this later, though,” she said in a tone that smacked of threat and promise both.


“Indeed, we shall,” he said with a slight bow of the head. “Until then,” he gave her a slight nod as he showed her out. Immediately, he went to his desk and consulted some notes from a locked drawer. It was confirmed then, he thought. D’Vena had taken chambers within the Shadow Quarter! The moment was here, then. He knew that a caster of her mastery, even without all her trappings and gear, would be formidable, but now had to be the time.


He slung his cloak over his shoulders and departed through a forgotten tunnelway, emerging on the street about a block from the old church. With a purposeful stride he headed directly for the forge. Thanks to his pride in keeping his armor in high repair, Crispian was rather easy to track through the city.


The forge area was somewhat busy as always. Tobyas noticed Leftie, a one-time League-mate, working and Apolexia, who had recently joined the League. Then he saw Crispian. His heart left slightly at seeing him. Rarely in the past weeks had he looked so hale and healthy. His armor, in fine repair, and cloak added to the appearance. Toby found himself noticing again just how striking the young lord could be. The fact that he was so short, although thick of muscle, added something to the appeal. He blushed at his own thoughts, knowing that if all went as he felt it would, the feelings between the two of them would certainly change. However, he knew, in his heart, that his love for the young Master of the League was so great he could not see him held in bondage to D’Vena any longer.


“Hail, Crispian,” he said as he settled on the scarred stool that was next to him. “I have news that you will be interested in.” He kept his voice low, compared to the clamor of the forge.


Crispian’s gray eyes rose to meet Tobyas’s own blue. Although clear of redness that spoke of ale consumption, they were troubled eyes. The smudge of exhaustion was under them, and it was clear that the control over drink Crispian had been showing was indeed a hard fought matter. “Aye? What news have you, Toby?” The young Briton felt his pulse quicken at the sight of Tobyas. He looked very well kitted out in fine chain mail of a battle cleric. The maturity that marked his hard-fought background added to his draw. How much of this feeling was from the curse? Crispian asked himself.


“D’Vena has come to town again,” Toby said quietly. It was not wise to speak overly of such matters so publicly, for surely she still had some influence and contacts within the city. People like her always did. “And she is vulnerable right now.” His tone carried a gravity that cut into Crispian.


D’Vena? Vulnerable? He found the two ideas hard to mate up in his mind, knowing what she was able to work even from her cell within the Palace. “How do you know this?” he asked, setting a mithril billhead aside to cool and giving his full attention to Tobyas. “Tell me what you have learned.”


Tobyas weighed everything he had heard, and how he had heard it. “I know she passed into the City yesterday, with only the company of two others. I also have it reported that there are men leading pack beasts that are not merchants coming from the same direction she did.” He felt the piercing look Crispian was giving and suddenly knew how the battlefield scouts must feel when they reported to him. His repute on the field was having high praise for his scouts and recalling them well, but demanding an exacting report from them. “I also know that the place she has taken lodgings at is not well suited for a defense on her part yet. She must take time to make all in readiness, and until then, she is exposed to more mundane threats.” His last words were couched in meaning.


Crispian ran a hand over his face and a look of weariness came over him. He considered it all. Could he strike at D’Vena with a mere sword, no matter how enchanted Toorc reported it to be? Would she really be that vulnerable, that exposed? “What of her retainers, the two who came with her?” He turned his attention back to the bill haft he was working on, dividing mind between the two tasks so that he might slide into consideration. “What do you know of them?”


Tobyas sighed and looked upward. “Next to nothing. They did not travel armed, but I think you have to consider the possibility that they are capable warriors.” He wished that D’Vena had tipped more of her hand, but she was cagey.


“So, I am really looking at three foes?”


“Aye, so it would seem,” Tobyas said quietly. He knew from experience that three foes would be hard to face, especially since one of them was a highly trained Sorceress of great renown. “I would accompany you, if you would have me.”


Crispian looked up from his work, the billhead almost fitted to the shaft of the polearm. “No,” he said flatly. “This is not really your fight. You were just drawn in.” His expression told Tobyas that the topic was closed. “However, you can bless me for the fight, if you would,” he allowed as he fixed the head in place. “Find Jash, and Azi. We’ll meet at your church in two hours time.”


Tobyas nodded. His heart was in his throat and his stomach ached with anxiety. The risks were so great, for both he and Crispian. He rose and gave a small nod and a salute. “As you wish it, my Liege,” he said rather formally, a tight grimace on his face. With a turn, he made his way from the square and back toward the Shadow Quarter.


His thoughts were so torn, so scattered. With feet guiding him more than thought, he made his way back to the church. He went first to the chapel and sank to his knees in prayer. He prayed that the Almighty would provide for a victory, firstly. Then, he said deep felt prayers for the love he knew he would lose, but for victory nonetheless.

 

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/get back up there.