oneman_onevote | (no subject)

Entry tags:

night court au

(no subject)

Ariette, Luca, and two guards have been despatched under detailed instructions to investigate Lord Grue de Agen's city home - which has the immediate drawback of Havelock and Brix being left with no immediate action to take themselves.

Havelock had resumed his lesson very briefly in calm, measured tones that left the apprentices frozen in silent uncertainty, until he dismissed them with a sadistic quantity of reading to do on top of their delayed presentations.

After that, Gentian seemed the logical place to return.

The place is still in something of a flurry, quiet though its members habitually are, and matters are not improved by a tall black-clad Mandrake stalking his way through the corridors with Brix nó Balm de Marsilikos beside him - surely she would have left by now, even as a concerned patron? - and stopping members of the House seemingly at random as they go.

It's only a matter of time before they find someone who remembers Matthieu's encounter with Grue de Agen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Havelock," Brix murmurs, after a third servant has escaped them, wide-eyed, "if we bother anyone sufficiently to attract the Dowayne's attention, our situation will only become worse."

Havelock stops in his tracks, and after a frozen moment, sighs.

It's so frustrating. How can none of them have seen a thing, are they all blind?

But she is right.

"I know," he says, soft. "I know. What do you suggest instead?"

At that moment, a dark head sticking out from around a doorsill abruptly withdraws.

Havelock turns, sharp.

It's a little unfortunate, but true, that Mandrake-trained adepts are drawn like sharks to any hint of avoidant body language.

...Or so it may appear to whoever Havelock is now approaching.

"Who's there?" he asks, heading for the doorway where he saw a flicker.

His voice is gentler than his appearance.

Brix follows his gaze, her brows drawing down in a frown.

"Come out, child."

After a moment, a girl steps out. She is wearing a simple gown of cornflower blue, and her face is troubled.

"Good day, my lord," Claire says to Havelock, falling abeyante to her knees.

"My lady."

"Claire, wasn't it?" Havelock says, stepping closer.

Yes, the girl who carried messages for Matthieu when they were planning their assignation. He clamps down ruthlessly on the ache caused by that thought for the moment and gestures absently for her to stand.

Brix holds out a hand to the girl.

"Claire. How are you, my dear?"

Claire takes Brix's hand and rises, pressing a kiss to the back before stepping away.

"I am not very well," she admits.

A frown, as she glances between them.

"Have you come about Matthieu?"

"Yes," Havelock says simply.

He leans against the wall for a moment, mostly to stop himself stepping in further. Claire has done nothing to warrant more intimidation than just his presence will cause.

"What do you know about what happened?"

Claire looks quickly down the hall, then back to them.

"May we speak privately?" she asks, hesitant.

Lowering her voice, "The Dowayne has only just asked if any of us saw anything. I haven't told him yet ..."

Havelock looks at Brix.

Whatever it turns out to be, they can't afford not to hear it. But equally, they can't get too involved with the investigations of Gentian itself.

Is Grue de Agen having her watched? And how closely?

"Away from the main rooms, then."

Brix's frown deepens.

"Yes -- someplace private would be best, I think." She touches Claire's shoulder, all comfort and concern. "This must be very trying for you, my dear. No need to be add to our distress by talking in public."

Claire frowns, this time in thought.

"If you will come with me, my lord and lady, I know some chambers that will not be in use right now."

Havelock nods and detaches himself from the wall to follow on, letting Claire and Brix go first.

It wouldn't do to be followed.

"By all means."

Brix glances back at Havelock once, but stays close to Claire.

Claire has a calm, self-assured walk, though she cannot be much older than thirteen. She turns down one hall and then another, then opens a door onto a small room that contains a few comfortable chairs and a desk. Its walls are lined with bookshelves.

"This should be all right," she decides.

Havelock stays outside for a moment, checking up and down the corridor, then slips in last, and closes the door behind him.

He nods to them both.

"It will do."

Brix nods in turn, focusing on Claire.

"What can you tell us, Claire? Be quick."

Claire takes a few deep breaths.

"Last night I could not sleep," she says.

"I meant to go to the kitchens for water, but I heard footsteps in the hallway-- it was Matthieu and one of the guards. They were going towards the courtyard, and Matthieu was saying that he wouldn't be long. He made it sound like he was visiting with a patron." She frowns. "I'd gone and hid, waiting for them to go back to bed, but after they went out, all I heard was a carriage leaving. Neither of them came back."

Havelock closes his eyes briefly.

Matthieu, you fool.

Then he opens them.

"Could you tell which guard? Nobody has come forward, correct?" he asks, very controlled.

"I didn't recognize him," Claire says timidly.

(Elua, he's frightening.)

"But there's a guard missing this morning."

Brix reaches out to touch Claire's cheek, genuinely comforting now.

"Thank you, Claire. How for Matthieu seem to you?"

This is not good.

There was no mention of anyone other than Matthieu in the note Brix recieved - if the guard is dead, it does not speak well of Grue de Agen's intentions.

She inclines slightly toward Brix, leaning into the touch.

"He did not seem troubled?" A pause. "No, he did, but I thought it was only the hour ... it is not usual."

Claire worries at her lower lip-- a bad habit, one she has been corrected on more than once. Sometimes, gently, by Matthieu.

"My lady, why would he go at all?"