Were it not for the formidable shield that Doamnă Coșlar-Aed and her granddaughter provided, Dafi felt there would be more curiosity-seekers and gossip-mongers stalking close in the halls that day, seeking to make her acquaintance. The iron-rod spine posture of the doamnă broadcast that she would brook no foolishness, and no breach of propriety Dafi settled into her habitual annual inspection stroll, upright carriage and noticing everything without looking. Her bustle was in the way of her habitual posture of folding her hands at the small of her back, but she did have a reticule to occupy them without looking fidgety.
At one point, she thought she caught a glimpse of the top of Dal’s head, but when she looked again, she saw she had mistaken another Jägermonster’s beret for Sergeant Dalibor’s cap. What she did not mistake was the number of observers wearing the colors of Movila, some in uniform with others in fine dress accompanying them. She did not care for their open and frank assessment of her. It made her feel as if she were a mare being led to the auction house.
Once safely in the confines of the doamnă’s sitting room with tea, Liesel closed the door behind the retreating maid, and wound the parlor music box. Dafi was curious about the mechanism, but the quester seemed to be slightly annoyed at the action. Why he would be so, Dafi could not guess, until the mask of Doamnă was set aside, and Amelia leaned forward to him, her eyes piercing. “So, Nistor - how much of the attack on Adreev am I cleared to know?”
Hasdeu gave a sour look, and shook his head, “Oh, no - we are not playing that game again. You tell me what you know first.”
Amelia chuckled and leaned back. “That would have worked ten years ago.”
“You are still the scariest grand dame on this ship, but that’s not enough to get me on the bad side of my superiors.” Hasdeu carefully set aside his tea, untasted. “Now, I need to know what you know.”
The doamnă sobered. “Just about everyone who knew him knows we lost Artus, but I also know Adreev is held by unknown forces and because of that, that the south roads are suspect. There’s also a bad batch of communication errors coming out of the south, but nothing anyone can nail down as coded transmissions. Cormac’s family is gathering earlier than usual for harvest, and the houses of Constantia and Dobricht have left off their usual summer raids on each other’s lands.” Amelia’s voice turned gruff. “I also know there’s a pack of wolves trying to get permanent control of Adreev, and I sincerely hope you are not sacrificing the girl who was seventh in her class of one hundred and sixty four students to a dolt who doesn’t even have the brains to not fold the winning hand on the river, just to hold the peace.”
Dafi raised her eyebrows at the assessment. She had not known the doamnă knew her family that well, or that Amelia knew of the gambling problems in Movila. However, she held her peace as the answer the quester gave would be most instructive.
“You’re not cleared for quite that much, but so noted.” Hasdeu rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Dama Hynter has agreed to attend the meeting. Nothing else has been asked of her. That will be enough.”
Amelia chuckled again, “That takes care of her suitor and his lot. What about her beau?”
“My what?” Dafi was startled out of silence. She had no official suitors before the Movila offer, and before the attack there had been no one that could be called a sweetheart. Her personal passions were still private, she hoped, as there would be no good to come of weighing Dalibor down with more regard. He had not responded in kind to her confession, best to let it stay buried between them.
“Tch, we need to work on that reaction,” Amelia said. “The rumors of your travelling companion are spreading fairly slowly, but they are still there.” She reached out to lift Dafi’s chin, turning it to the light from the window. “If we can make that a blush of indignation, that would be better.”
Dafi sat straighter, pulling her head back and up, “Excuse me?” Her eyes flashed in anger.
“Much better. Remember to be angry or offended, not embarrassed.” Amelia sipped her tea. “Embarrassment would not speak well of him, but taking offense that the gossip would think so little of your sense of duty or restraint, that is the right direction to take them, I think.”
Hasdeu sighed, “I was hoping to avoid that faction altogether, but you are right, Doamnă. I apologize for keeping that bit of intelligence from you, Dama.” He nodded to the ladies in turn. “Yes, there are rumors, but I believe the fact the two of you have not been seen together since arriving has helped defuse most of them.”
Dafi sat, stone-faced during the exchange. Rumors could not be fought directly, and only by laughing them off, or ignoring them as baseless, could she defend herself. The other half of the equation was to present herself in society as one beyond reproach in the matter.
She frowned to herself, realizing that until this mess was over, even corresponding with Dal would not be prudent. Dafi fidgeted, her fingers plucking at the napkin in her lap as she considered the possible options. When she realized they were waiting for a response from her, she shook her head. “You told him of the rumors when we arrived, yes?” At Hasdeu’s nod, she continued, “Therefore the rumors preceded us. How long were the rumors on board, do you know?”
“Three to four days before their arrival, at the most.” Amelia looked to the quester, “I first overheard a version at the whist tables, almost a full day before the rumor that she was arriving circulated and two days before the official notice that she was in the hospital. The details I heard made me think it had been through a few tellings, since it relied so much on innuendo.”
“I have a similar timeline,” Liesel spoke up, “as the tea servers were buzzing about the lady knight traveling with her monster squire two days before the hospital confirmed her arrival to the visiting committee.” She smiled, “Though it should be noted that the working class rumors think it’s a good partnership, rather than a romance.”
Dafi looked to Hasdeu, who confirmed, “That means that it probably originated with the constable’s report from Tânărăjugul. The short form of the helio report did not give many details, but that you and the sergeant were traveling together was one of them.”
She nodded, “It sounds to be all be home-grown speculation out of boredom.” The grain of truth behind the rumor did not need to be confirmed, even here. Still, Dafi took a few moments to gather herself before speaking again. “When is the meeting?”
“We will have everyone in place the day after tomorrow.” Hasdeu frowned at her, worried. “You still have not accepted the terms, as it is only the initial review. While it has been traditional to sign the contract at that meeting, that is only if there have been prior negotiations. In this case it would not required, or even recommended.” He seemed to be reassuring Doamnă Amelia as much as Dafi on that point.
“Not by reasonable people, no.” Amelia grumbled. “I would not call that group reasonable when it comes to this. Who is in charge of security for the meeting?”
“Actually, we have had a volunteer.” Hasdeu loosened up enough to chuckle. “Captain Fejes will have as many of his platoon in the reception room as he can fit and the Baron will permit.”
Dafi firmly suppressed the thrill she felt at hearing there was a volunteer, but when she did not know the name, she frowned, “This captain, he is one you trust?”
The quester grinned, “As long as we aren’t at the card table, I trust him with my life. You have allies the others will not be able to find until it is too late.”
Amelia clucked her tongue at him. “We can’t meet him here, there would be too many people watching.” She sipped her tea, thinking. “Even if we are in seclusion for Trandifira’s first mourning, we could be intercepted when we take our morning exercise.” She raised her eyebrow at Dafi. “What say you, Dama? Think you can get up at an unseemly hour to avoid the riff-raff?”
“Depends on what you call an unseemly hour.” Dafi smiled. “I have been on a rotating schedule, shifting from day to night watch for the past week.”
“Society calls night shift ‘town hours’, but we are usually finished and out of the salle just before the morning shift change.” Liesel said. “Our maid that we brought from home knows, and helps run interference. The staff that come with the suite likely know we are out, but are smart enough to not let on that they know.” Liesel shrugged, “Whether or not they know which gymnasium we use? I would not hazard a probability.”
~=*=~
Dalibor was attempting to wear himself out in the gymnasium again. Alone this time, he had taken to practicing pelota shots, playing at top speed when a gaggle of nobles entered on the far side of the gallery. He heard them long before they entered his alley, of course. None of the other courts were in use, and they were making a huge fuss. “You’re sure he’s here? I’m tired of looking... oh, heyla! Herr Jäger? Have you seen another of us here in the past hour?”
Dal caught the ball, and looked the three of them over. “Nut in here today.” His first impression of their stances was that they were fencers, but the wear on their racquets would mark them as regular players. The one that had a uniform that matched his gear bag was definitely a serious player. “Hy been here sinze second bell.” He casually tossed the ball up in his hand, catching sight of a badge for the house of Movila on one of the bags. “Who hyu lookink vor?”
“Would you know Pfaltzboier Dolj on sight?” The court drawl seemed habitual rather than insulting, and the stance the young man took facing Dal was wary, but not fearful. The serious player had the right accent, though.
He shrugged, and turned to return to his game. The surprising bit was when they did not leave, but the lead speaker stepped up, donning a cap, “Rules say don’t lose your hat, right?” He had a heavier racquet than they used in the Castle leagues, so Dalibor chuckled and served.
If this was a friend of Nicul’s that was as close to a passphrase they were going to get. A series of volleys later, the ball went through they boy’s racquet, and angled towards the group of spectators at the end of the alley. They had been joined by Nicul, who sensibly caught the slowed ball with a gloved hand. When the player made an inarticulate sound of outrage upon seeing the damage to his racquet, Nicul shushed him. Holding up the half-kilo ball, he said, “You pick up a game with a Jäger, remember the size of the equipment.” Nicul tossed the ball to Dal.
It was larger than regulation size, but in Dalibor’s hand it had not been quite as noticeable. Perhaps that was why the kid thought it would behave the same way when he stepped up with his racquet. The youngster chuckled ruefully when he acknowledged his error, “Yes, it was probably time to restring, anyway. Good thing I didn’t hit the frame.” He tucked the racquet under his arm and held out his hand to Dalibor, “Good game, sir! I am Pfaltzboier Prahova, Michal.”
Dal took his hand, “Pfft, dun call me sir, Hy’m chust Dal.” He looked over at Nicul, “Dese friends uf yourn?”
“When it counts, aye.” Nicul’s serious attitude infected the rest of the nobles. “Most overlook us in court as the spares sent as trading agents for our families, but before the three crows came to roost, we were Gav’s fishing buddies. Michal you’ve met, Samhael is from Bihor, and Dhabidh,” Nicul paused significantly, “is our south.”
“Vlasca.” Dhabidh’s coloring was dark, similar to Dafi’s. Dal took the young man’s hand with a frown as he continued. “There has been a bit of news from the old neighborhood I do not care for, and a few things I have heard that make me think there is a solution closer to hand than the fortress.”
Dal looked to Nicul, who nodded. “Hy’m chust a soldier.” He shrugged, casually tossing the ball at the back of the alley and catching it. “Vat vould Hy know?” Playing the dumb soldier, speaking his mind, he wondered why they would come to him.
“You know the old ways. The time when the word of a good man could bring scrutiny to the problem.” Nicul tossed a regulation ball from hand to hand, careful in his posture, still. “I think there are many pieces to the puzzle here, and the Baron is trying to get all the pieces on one table. If we are to get Gav back in one living piece, we need to be able to help without too much attention being paid to us.”
“Hrm. Ve dun cauze too moch notice here. But Hy tink hyu know de duke, ne? Vat's up mit him und dis zirkus?”
Michal nodded, “There’s a lot that we supposedly don’t know of what is going on outside the city walls, but that’s only the ones who ignore their people. For me, it is difficult to ignore the problems, since I’ve heard the burghers howling at Father’s audiences every time I go home about the mercenaries that harass the border towns.” He frowned at his racquet, and sat to unstring it. “This is all recent happenings, though. If there’s a way to cage the carrion-wings, there’s a lot that can be done to help right the boat.”
“Red fire, Gav didn’t even gamble that much before they showed up. He knows he’s pants at cards.” Samhael muttered, looking as if he was checking the tension on his racquet. “He also knew the reputation his house had, and was trying to avoid spending more than his father had allowed him as heir.” He made a rude noise, “He’s still trying, though it’s starting to show that he is selling off his personal wardrobe. But that’s like trying to bail the Dyne with a teacup.”
Dalibor frowned in thought, still bouncing the ball off the alley back. “So, nu - vat hyu zee in der crows’ flock?”
“They do not pay their bills,” Dhabidh murmured. “At first, it was just during travel, and Gav tried to jolly them into paying. Then it was the merchants in town. The ones that got burned have been grumbling loud enough to be heard this summer. Now, I am not so sure of the source,” he slid his eyes up and down the gallery. “but there have been mentions downstairs that if you are not military, you are not getting paid as you were promised.”
“Considering the entourage they haul about, that is not a small amount they’re talking about, either.” Michal said. “Bodyguards everywhere, most of them jumped-up street-toughs, but when you need a brawler, you go there first.” Michal glanced at Nicul, “The bully-boys have been pushing the boundaries of who they can rough up.”
“Also insulating Gav from contact with not just us, but his proper and traditional court advisers.” Samhael finished his inspection of his racquet, and stood beside Nicul, taking the ball from him. “Won’t let any of us in to see him, except when there’s no way to have a private conversation, quiet-like.”
“You tried again?” Nicul asked. At Samhael’s nod, he took the ball back. “Told you to not try. Gav’s got enough worry on his plate.”
“He should know about you getting roughed up.” Michal said.
Dhabidh nodded, “Know why you have not tried, but he should know.” When Dalibor lightly bounced the ball to him, with a quirked eyebrow, the southerner replied, “It is an open secret, their relationship, but last time, Gav tried to send him home, out of harm’s way. My bet is on the toughs being told to set it up so he is not here for the meeting.”
The Jäger grunted, as the ball was returned to him. “Ja, zounds like. Hyu needz to be inna group ‘til der meetink, Nicul-lad. Vot else ve got?” He turned to the alley wall. “Ve got a bride dot dun know alla ziz, but chould know, I think.”
General murmurs of agreement around the group, but Michal spoke up. “I sent my card, but the dragon isn’t letting anyone in to see her. Quite right, of course, but I did want to check on her, after the city watch report went public.”
Dal grunted, and pitched the ball again. “Hy might know a guy, zee? Bot ve needs to kip it quviet, ne?”
“Anything I can do to get Gav out of this, I will do.” Nicul said.
The Jäger chuckled, “Careful mit dot sort uf talk, lad. Hyu might find hyuself mit zum epic tasks.”
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