Alaric in Mirabeau part 5: Skirmish & Execution

In The Doom that Came to Amber

 

A Day of Rest, Save, of course, for the Wicked

Alaric gets up and washes and dresses. Picks up his brushes and the sketches he was working on last night in the Bistro and heads off to Paolo’s room [stopping to collect breakfast for he and Paolo on the way and he doesn’t book lunch]. He knocks on Paolo’s door at about 10am.

 

“Paolo, are you awake yet? It’s Alaric.”

 

“Ugh!...whazat?...Hmm!...Go way!”

 

“Get up you slug. Its 10 in the morning and I come bearing breakfast – and I think you need a holiday.”

 

There’s a long drawn out groan and some muttering; a bump and some very unsteady footsteps. The door opens to reveal Paolo staggering back to his bed. He falls into it and covers his head with a pillow.

 

Alaric enters the room and closes the door behind him. “Paolo, my poor friend – you have been worked too hard methinks. Let me at the patient,” and he lifts the pillow from his friend’s head.

 

Paolo’s eyes close as the light hits his face. He groans, wafting ineffectually at your hand.

 

Alaric is genuinely concerned for Paolo. Assuming that he looks as crap as Alaric expects [ie utterly exhausted].

 

His eyes have deep black rings around them. He looks like he hasn’t slept for a week.

 

Alaric will place the pillow back and will set about preparing some healthy and nutritious drink and food – or, will, at worst, put fruit juice into a drinking vessel and prepare tasty morsels of fruit and sit next to Paolo and help him to sit up so he can drink and eat it.

 

“This...enthusiasm for your newly discovered skills is admirable Paolo – but worryingly I have sketched corpses that looked in a better state of health than presently you do. You are not destined to become a great lost talent Paolo – but all things must be approached in stable measures and I regret that I had not noticed earlier that you were attempting a Gavotte when a Pavane was more in order. My dear friend, you are exhausted. Today, you are under my orders. And today you shall have bed rest and I shall nurse for you and stay with you until you have more in common with this world than the next. Do you wish me to summon a physician – or a family member, or will you trust your immediate well being to my hands? Please consider me at your service.”

 

A snore rises gently from beneath the pillow.

 

Alaric laughs softly to himself. He’s been in the same state as that before. OK – fairy nuff. Alaric will let him sleep – but he will stay with him throughout the day in case Paolo needs his help when he eventually wakes up. He eats the breakfast and will venture to peek at what Paolo’s been up on his painting of Alaric before he restarts work on his painting of Paolo.

 

Ever seen the heroic art of 1930s Germany?

 

Yes I have.

 

Alaric’s depicted like that, striding over fallen bodies, eyes fixed on a trump held in his left hand. His right holds a gore-clotted sword of distinctive design and about his head plays the nimbus of a saintly prophet. The background is still to be finished. With his short red hair, he looks brutal. If he weren’t in a priestly painting smock, he’d look like an SS stormtrooper. [Has Alaric been to Nazi Germany or met Rupert, Flora’s son?]

 

[No, he’s not been to Nazi Germany but he would have seen the style of art depicted at some stage and I can’t remember if he’s met Rupert – it might have been the Liverpool campaign when Rupert was Jason].

 

[I think he’s met Rupert. Rupert’s not around quite as often as Jason was but dresses much the same way. Rupert’s hair is blond but under the wig, Alaric’s is almost identical in all but shade. Well, well!]

 

[So! Rupert obviously wears a wig when he’s not under his Mum’s eye :)]

 

[Who knows what Rupert does when mum’s not watching? ;-)]

 

Alaric is genuinely taken aback by the depiction. He doesn’t like the style it’s been painted in – it in no way compares to the way Paolo depicted Flora. It’s been 100s of years since he’s been at all war-like and he is one of the worst among the Amberites in terms of war-likeness! He thinks several things – the wig will return to his head.

 

Of course, being a perceptive sort of a person, he’ll always know that underneath his wig, he’s just like Rupert. J

 

[Raspberry!!!] Quite the opposite person I can assure you and I bet Rupert would be more affronted by the accusation than Alaric!

 

He quite possibly would, but to Alaric’s trained eye, the two men have something fundamental in common. Does he deny it to himself?

 

Not actually remembering having interacted with Rupert, I really can’t make a response on that from Alaric!

 

Assume it happened during some of the social occasions at the major festivals. [Mmm! I think at next Stabcon, I must make clear what people are around.]

 

I would imagine having a difficult mother gives them something in common :) Equally given that Alaric suspects that Rupert’s father was the late Prince of the Rhine with whom he knows that Flora had an affair with I suspect that they would have a lot in common. Prince Rupert and Alaric were in many ways alike in their nature. That’s why they fell out.

 

Looks like Alaric’s found some good parallels already. :-)

 

He will never seek a sword like the one that’s depicted. Finally he’s going to have to do something about Paolo’s mindset. It’s not pleasing!

 

There is an impressionistic element to it; still, it’s not quite the same stark art deco quality the real Nazi art had. It’s more the visual impression of implacable resolution. Still, there’s no denying it looks different to Laura’s. Yet perhaps not? Laura’s portrait captured the epitome of eroticism; this captures the epitome of the crusader. In terms of quality, it’s remarkable, and you can feel the trump quality emanating from it. Paolo must be one gifted guy!

 

Alaric recognises that but he would also recognise the effect of Paolo’s meeting with Mira in his work. Maybe?

 

He can see nothing of that. Mira gave Paolo trump artistry and perhaps improved his insight but the painting represents what Paolo sees in Richard Alars. You hear his voice in your mind, “Why do you wear the wig, Richard?” and “You look better without it. Less of a ponce, more ‘you’!” These words came from before he looked in your painting of Mira.

 

Alaric gets to work on Paolo’s painting and starts to work subtle changes into the insight he received such as making the event depicted more ambiguous and shaping Paolo as a noble painter rather than a Mirabeauan extremist.

 

[This is your picture of Paolo, right?] When Paolo told Alaric about his aspirations, he wanted to be a noble dilettante; things may have changed now but in some ways it doesn’t matter. You’ve painted something that exists; if you make a different painting, it may not reveal the same thing but it won’t change what you know. To use a parable, [you’d better get used to thinking in parables if you’re going to be a prophet J], if you were in a thunderstorm and you saw your father shoot your mother in a lightning flash. A second flash might show him cradling her body and weeping but it wouldn’t change the reality of what you saw first. You now know something about Paolo; a different painting won’t change that.

 

Yes, but it would make Alaric happier about it. And he is, as Paolo said “a self centred git”.

 

A true solipsist, in fact. :-)

 

Got it in one!

 

The only trouble is, sooner or later, every solipsist comes to realise he’s not the centre of the universe; that others can impinge on his ‘reality’. :-p

 

Not in my Universe they can’t. Hmm. Golter is sooo nice this time of year…

 

But neither Mirabeau nor Amber is Golter.

 

Thank all the Gods for that!

 

I just meant that Alaric’s solipsism is due to take a nasty knock where he is now or where he’s going. J

 

Aha – but Richard Alars is only an aspect of Alaric. If he was known in Mirabeau as Jasper de Fiorenza for example, would a man of the 15th century have been more prevalent in the portrait?

 

You’re forgetting that the whole point of a trump is to get at the essence of the subject. Merely changing your name and emphasising a certain phase of your past can’t really change your essence. It might have produced more renaissance style details in the picture but they would be purely superficial.

 

OK, he starts brushing the dust under the carpet.

 

You get to work altering it but you’re aware that what you’re doing is getting away from the essence of the picture, impairing it as both a work of art and a trump. You see, a trump is much like a hologram; the entire picture is actually implicit in each brushstroke. Although you didn’t realise the full picture consciously until quite late on (as is usual), your recent ‘vision’ of the finished picture was actually inherent in the very first brushstroke. You’d be better off starting right over. Trying to change it now would be like superimposing two negatives on each other.

 

Right. Destroy the canvas.

 

How do you destroy it?

 

Slash it up with a knife and take it home to burn it!

 

It’s dry so you slice it into quarters and thrust them inside your shirt.

 

Sit back and start sketching Paolo from scratch as he lays prone in his bed, tired and exhausted.

 

Since you’re deliberately trying to avoid a certain image that is inescapably at the front of your mind, why don’t you tell me the sort of thing you’re trying to achieve?

 

Capturing the innocence of Paolo – a man asleep, who is not being manipulated by either his state religion or by his friends. Just who is this sleeping man? Spend 30 minutes or so just watching him. Then start some pencil drawings.

 

Sketching him asleep is fairly easy. You put your sketches by the easel and start painting and immediately things go awry, there’s some element in what you’re trying to do that doesn’t gel with your intent. Do you want to let your subconscious direct you or try to impose your conscious will?

 

Alaric will work with being wilful a little later. Let’s see where Alaric’s subconscious is trying to direct him in this portrait. Let it flow for a bit. He can redraw Paolo later and inflict his upon the work then for a comparison.

 

You let yourself go and concentrate on painting Paolo as he sleeps. He looks curiously abandoned, just lying there; like a ragdoll thrown aside by a child. After an hour, you step back and see what you thought were construction lines to help get the gambrel roof right are in fact strings. You’ve depicted Paolo as a discarded puppet! So much for not being manipulated! You examine the ‘strings’ and notice there seem to be several sets, one of which stretch over a beam and down toward the viewer...or the painter!

 

Ewrrremphooops. How embarrassing. Right thinks Alaric feeling more than a trifle guilty. He examines the other strings [eg those not indicating him!] – how many other sets of strings are there?

 

He’s not sure, possibly two or even three but they’re very tangled; there may be only one other set.

 

Put aside that particular line of thought for a while. Alaric makes himself some coffee – and enough for Paolo should he wake up. And, while it boils he cleans up the mess from yesterday and this morning. That done, he will drink his coffee – check on Paolo to make sure that he is still snoring and will sit and go through his Trump deck humming quietly to himself as he does so. He will eventually do a reading based entirely on himself and on his new role as prophet and whether it can be rationalised with his allegiance to Amber.

 

The reading shows his destiny is to go to Amber in the future. As usual with Trump readings, it doesn’t say how soon. It seems to indicate conflict as a result but the aspirator shows you’re on the side of the family’s weal. The hidden influence is the Devil.

 

All roads lead to Amber, Alaric says to himself. He is still considering taking Paolo with him as his friend and fellow artist.

 

[May I ask what card you would associate with Paolo? Just in case it comes up. BTW, while we’re here, what cards would Alaric associate with Dworkin, the Unicorn, Vialle and anyone from the CoC?]

 

[Paolo, 2 of Cups; Dworkin, the Hanged Man; the Unicorn, the Empress; Vialle, 9 of Pentacles; CoC, the Devil.]

 

If Paolo is not awake Alaric will amuse himself by drawing quick sketches based on the icon groups he saw in the Cathedral. He will then start playing with their order to try and project an order. Does lunch arrive sometime?

 

You didn’t order lunch; you specifically said you didn’t.

 

Bugger! And nor did he! Ah well, he had breakfast and there might be some fruit around to eat.

 

It’s a little old but there’s a purple citrus fruit of some kind, about grapefruit sized. No idea what it tastes like.

 

Hmm, weird citrus fruit hmmm.

 

It tastes great, very tangy and much juicier than the outside would suggest.

 

You play with your sketches [Penny, why don’t you offer some sequences and I’ll tell you if you’re hot or cold.]

 

OK try this one.

 5) A Unicorn and a Dragon look down on the City, [just like the one above] and have some sort of falling out. They fight but it’s inconclusive. This is the most difficult of the scenes to decipher. They might not be fighting, they might be doing something else [procreating in a perverse way?]

 

6) A Dragon attacks a Lady in a Forest, breathing fire and eating her body but steals her child.

 

3) A Dragon hides a Child from a Unicorn in a cave.

 

1) A Child [Mira?] runs from a cave in a mountain pursued by a Unicorn.

 

4) A Child is raised by a Dwarf or perhaps by several dwarves under the ground [Snow White?]

 

2) A Lady [Mira?] rules a city of Silver, Green and Gold. It reminds you of Amber save that the buildings are depicted as ultra-modern – glass skyscrapers and pyramids, etc.

 

It feels good but #s 1) & 2) still seem out of place.

 

OK try this one.

 

2) A Lady [Mira?] rules a city of Silver, Green and Gold. It reminds you of Amber save that the buildings are depicted as ultra-modern – glass skyscrapers and pyramids, etc.

 

5) A Unicorn and a Dragon look down on the City, [just like the one above] and have some sort of falling out. They fight but it’s inconclusive. This is the most difficult of the scenes to decipher. They might not be fighting, they might be doing something else [procreating in a perverse way?]

 

6) A Dragon attacks a Lady in a Forest, breathing fire and eating her body but steals her child.

 

1) A Child [Mira?] runs from a cave in a mountain pursued by a Unicorn.

 

3) A Dragon hides a Child from a Unicorn in a cave.

 

4) A Child is raised by a Dwarf or perhaps by several dwarves under the ground [Snow White?]

 

Excellent! #1 still seems out of place, though. :-)

 

OK try this one.

 

2) A Lady [Mira?] rules a city of Silver, Green and Gold. It reminds you of Amber save that the buildings are depicted as ultra-modern – glass skyscrapers and pyramids, etc.

 

5) A Unicorn and a Dragon look down on the City, [just like the one above] and have some sort of falling out. They fight but it’s inconclusive. This is the most difficult of the scenes to decipher. They might not be fighting, they might be doing something else [procreating in a perverse way?]

 

 6) A Dragon attacks a Lady in a Forest, breathing fire and eating her body but steals her child.

 

3) A Dragon hides a Child from a Unicorn in a cave.

 

1) A Child [Mira?] runs from a cave in a mountain pursued by a Unicorn.

 

4) A Child is raised by a Dwarf or perhaps by several dwarves under the ground [Snow White?]

 

Getting closer but that #1 placement still eludes you. One more try and we’ll assume it’s beyond Alaric.

 

The last go then ...

 

2) A Lady [Mira?] rules a city of Silver, Green and Gold. It reminds you of Amber save that the buildings are depicted as ultra-modern – glass skyscrapers and pyramids, etc.

 

1) A Child [Mira?] runs from a cave in a mountain pursued by a Unicorn.

 

5) A Unicorn and a Dragon look down on the City, [just like the one above] and have some sort of falling out. They fight but it’s inconclusive. This is the most difficult of the scenes to decipher. They might not be fighting, they might be doing something else [procreating in a perverse way?]

 

6) A Dragon attacks a Lady in a Forest, breathing fire and eating her body but steals her child.

 

3) A Dragon hides a Child from a Unicorn in a cave.

 

4) A Child is raised by a Dwarf or perhaps by several dwarves under the ground [Snow White?]

 

And still it eludes you, I’m afraid. Oh well, perhaps he’ll discover something that will reveal the ‘truth’. :-)

 

That Evening – Skirmish and Execution

Paolo stirs late afternoon. He sort of half rolls on the bed to reveal one eye blinking slowly and taking in the room with you sketching at the desk.

 

Alaric looks over towards him and smiles. “Good evening Paolo. Can I get you something to drink?”

 

He nods slowly and mechanically, as if having to remember how to do it. “What time is it?”

 

Alaric gets up immediately to fetch a glass of water for Paolo “Late afternoon my friend.” Alaric smiles kindly at Paolo as he passes him the water.

 

Paolo sits up to take it and downs the lot in one go.

 

“I wouldn’t move too quickly yet if I were you – you still look a little done in. Do you think you could manage some food if I go out foraging for you?”

 

“Food?” Paolo thinks for a second, then nods vigorously. “Yeah! Food sounds good!”

 

“Well, if you would prefer to stay and rest further – and furnish me with the key to your room I will set forth post-haste. Any particular desires, Paolo?”

 

He tosses you the key and shakes his head. “Anything! I’m famished!”

 

Alaric catches the key and heads out. He looks back around the door and says “Paolo, do me the great favour of remaining in bed until my return – and I promise to be swift. Your blood sugar levels will be very low and this may incline you towards fainting if you exert yourself to any moderate extent – like sitting up”! Alaric grins – “I have been in a similar state myself on many occasions. And, I will be happy to assist you with any more personal requirements upon my return” he bows and leaves.

 

Paolo nods but he’s already rising as you leave. Actually, he looks a lot better than he did this morning; less like a panda, anyway.

 

[What? Fat and stupid?]

 

[I meant in terms of black rings round the eyes.]

 

“Paolo! Don’t start any work tonight. The light’s gone. You’re still tired and you’ll only hate yourself for it in the morning. Doctor’s orders.” Alaric smiles and leaves.

 

Paolo waves you off and vanishes behind the shutting door.

 

Alaric walks quickly around to the nearest source of food and order dinner for delivery in 40 minutes [hot red meat with lots of root vegetables and greens and a big piece of fruitcake with cheese and lots of fruit]. Nibbles to take back with him. Thick soup and bread for example or cold nibbles [stuffed veggies]. A few bottles of wine. Get back to Paolo with cold food asap.

 

OK, you get back to find him freshened, drying his hands on a towel. “What’s happened to your painting?” He asks as you walk in the door.

 

“It went the way of all poor art. I slashed it up and have been distracting myself with sketching for the day – and watching you sleep. Ready to eat now?”

 

The two of you set to, Paolo almost matching your own appetite. By the time you’ve finished, it’s getting dark. Paolo belches and sits back with an air of repletion. He sips his wine thoughtfully. As his eye roves around the room, it alights on your empty easel.

 

“Actually, I thought yours looked quite good. What didn’t you like a about it?”

 

“Style, subject choice…”

 

Paolo looks slightly put out by the insult.

 

“No, not you Paolo – but it just didn’t seem to catch you correctly”

 

He doesn’t seem convinced by your pathetic explanation but he doesn’t come back with any retort of his own.

 

“…implications – the usual doubts. I peeped at your canvas Paolo. It’s very good you know – good enough to be formally acknowledged. I am not convinced by the subject however. I fear he looks faaaar too hard without his wig and I must admit that my skull misses its tender embrace. An Alars militant! I wonder?” Alaric muses.

 

Paolo shrugs. “It just came to me, seemed to grow out of the canvas, but the more I look at it the more I’m sure it’s an important part of you. You have been a soldier, haven’t you?”

 

“Not like that. I look like a stormtrooper there!”

 

“Eh?” Exclaims Paolo. “What’s that?”

 

“I mean some sort of extremist Paolo.” Alaric says quickly.

 

Paolo nods agreement. “I see you as a crusader, fighting for our faith. I know you, Richard. I know you’d fight for what’s important. For your art.”

 

“Yes Paolo – I will defend what I believe in. I will champion what I believe in – but I rarely take to bearing arms. I am not a crusader. Do you know who the crusaders were?”

 

“Of course!” nods Paolo, “They were the religious soldiery that fought for the Goddess against the minions of the evil Philistine.”

 

“I was once a soldier. It was a while ago Paolo. A very long time ago, but ultimately I held art to be more important than politics or war. I still do. I was once considered a fine duellist – still, I am a damn sight more useful these days with a paint brush than I am with a sword.”

 

“Paolo, I am no longer the crusader you have portrayed. I am not a likely volunteer to join the religious soldiery to fight for the Goddess against the minions of the evil Philistine. That is not me and nor, frankly does it interest me for I would not see the smouldering ruins of Our Cathedral surrounded by the dead and dying of Mirabeau. That is not the way. I will crusade for art in my own way. I will champion a school of art in a place that is barbaric in its lack of respect for Art. And I will do it in my way. That way I will meet my commitment. Perhaps you will join me there.”

 

Paolo seems mildly surprised if somewhat disbelieving. “Yes! That sounds rather exciting, actually.” He thinks for a moment. “But where is this barbaric place?”

 

“I do not wish to sound like a Lord of Mystery Paolo but I do not feel ready to entirely discuss either this place or my plans at this moment. Yet I surely see a place for you in them. I think due to your over strenuous activities of the last few days that I might insist on another day’s rest from work for you Paolo. A ride into the countryside – what do you say? We can hire some horses perhaps and you can get some fresh air. I know that I could certainly do with some exercise.”

 

“No, no! I feel fine now. Another night’s sleep and I can finish it, near as dammit! I want you back here tomorrow!”

 

“Well in that case perhaps a brief walk and then I will see you back to your bed – I always find a walk before bed will give me a good sleep. Actually Paolo, I need some help to interpret some iconography I saw in the Cathedral – perhaps you could help me with it?”

 

“Sure,” he shrugs, “if I can.”

 

Alaric shows Paolo his sketches and says “Paolo, could you tell me in your own words the story that these images represent. I am having difficulty in placing them in some kind of a logical order – and I would welcome your opinion. We could walk and talk if you are up to it – there is no real need to go the Cathedral. These sketches will suffice – but if you need to place them in greater context then a jaunt to the Cathedral may be in order.”

 

Paolo looks out at the gathering dark. “Yes! I think I could do with the exercise. Come on then!”

 

The two of you leave the attic and take a turn around the block. The main street is well lit though Paolo’s side alley isn’t. Once you get to the street, you can make out the sketches by standing under streetlights.

 

Paolo checks through all of them as you walk. “Of course we all learn the Iconography at Miraday school but this stuff’s weird. It must be apocryphal, either pre or post. I do know the dragon and the dwarf are among symbols associated with her worship. They’re not explained in the conventional Iconography.”

 

By the time you’re half way round the block, Paolo’s checked the lot. “No, I don’t know this stuff, it’s rare. Salli might, though. She’s into the apocrypha.” He grins. “She likes anything weird.”

 

“Would it be impolite to show them to her now Paolo – and, I feel I should begin the course to improve my relationship with Salli?”

 

“I suppose!” He shrugs. “She’ll have stopped work for the day, so I think I know where she’ll be.” He nods to an alley across the street. “This way!”

 

He leads you down that alleyway, across another street and then into another alley. At this point you hear footfalls behind you. Turning, you see a big man silhouetted against the street light at the end of the alley, about 15 yards away. He swiftly follows you; his hand under his cloak.

 

Paolo’s noticed nothing, yet, when you take his arm and tell him to run, pointing up the alley. He looks at you quizzically as you spot two smaller figures moving to block the far end of the alley. What do you do?

 

Alaric says “Paolo do you know of any other way out of this alleyway, a door or fire escape perhaps?” Alaric is looking for something resembling a weapon in the alleyway. Actually, a sword would be a very useful thing to find about now. As they walk towards the two figures at the end of the alley way, Alaric turns to Paolo and says, “We are going to charge the big figure behind us...”

 

“What?” says Paolo, startled.

 

“…or, rather I am going to, and you are going to slip by and get help. I am going to try and take him down but I cannot guarantee it.”

 

As you speak, the three men glide silently to within a few yards, menacing in the dark. “Now gentlemen,” says the big man, “we’ve seen you looking at the pictures. Just hand them over and no one need get hurt.” All three men have drawn blades. One of the others sniggers in the darkness.

 

A slight look of relief passes Alaric’s face; the big guy is not Uncle Gerard, there is hope yet! Quietly he says, “They are only thieves Paolo. Turn with me and walk quickly towards the man behind us – watch our backs if you please.”

 

You realise Paolo is paralysed with fear. Trembling, he clutches at your arm. “Give them to him, Richard!”

 

The big man extends his sword so it’s 2 feet from your face. “Your friend is sensible.” Now he knows Paolo’s no threat and that you’ve got the pictures, all his attention is on you. From the corner of your eye, you see Paolo shrink back against the wall, terrified. He’s going to be no use to you here. You’re quite certain Paolo’s too petrified to run and you know all three men are watching you. If you make any attempt to draw your sword, blood will be spilled. Of course, you are an Amberite so it will probably be theirs...

 

He is trying to give Paolo the opportunity to get past the large man and will attempt to get his blade at the big guy’s throat – but not run him through unless obliged to. Alternatively Alaric’s about to get a kicking – but theft of work is probably a near capital offence in his eyes :)

 

Quite right! Only an utterly desperate man would assault an artist or steal art, and you’ve got three of them. Let me make this perfectly clear – if you choose to fight, you can’t afford half measures. These men will be guilty of sacrilege and can’t afford a witness to live. Paolo clearly knows what they’re like and that’s why he’s gibbering for you to give them the sketches.

 

Which means either way that we are going to be dead because we are witnesses to theft.

 

You don’t know enough about Mirabeau’s system of justice to be sure but you can’t be far wrong.

 

So using warfare Alaric is going to take them out and will be hampered by the cowering Paolo so Alaric will do his best to keep Paolo behind him and away from the bad dudes. And Alaric has stated on a number of occasions that art is the only thing worth while fighting for. And they may well be agents of some kind or another so…

 

…Throwing the sketches between the 2 small dudes Alaric draws his sword and goes all out on the big dude.

 

Good thinking! The two behind you step smartly sideways to avoid treading on the pictures while bending down to grab them. Mr Big is startled enough to let you get your sword out of its scabbard before making his lunge, which you side-step. He’s good! Despite your surprise tactics, he doesn’t over-extend and is in a defensive en-guarde to meet your riposte. But he also realises you’re very good as he gives ground while receiving a cut on his sword arm. You’re confident you can take him easily in a minute or so but your back feels terrifyingly exposed. “Lauro, take him in the back!” Mr Big screams urgently.

 

Alaric spins round so that his back is now facing the other wall

 

This does you no good. You can’t focus your attention or parry with your blade in 2 opposite directions at once.

 

As Mr Big has given ground, Lauro and co are now the immediate threat. Alaric goes for an all out and deadly attack against Lauro in the belief that Lauro and co will run – leaving Mr Big to be dealt with. He calls out, “Paolo hit the ground now!”

 

One of the two men rushes you in a headlong charge, he’s clearly not the equal of Mr Big but Mr Big is too much of a threat for you to disengage from the front. If you point your sword at the new guy, Mr Big will stick you from the front. You must do something before this new guy reaches you, you simply have no defences in that direction aside from your bare left hand.

 

Alaric goes all out on Mr Big [with any luck the other two will run away] and as soon as he possibly can will swing to give his back some protection from the alley way wall.

 

Throwing yourself at him, you hammer his blade aside just far enough to get close but as you step forward, his point enters your upper left arm. Still, while his blade’s in your flesh, he can’t parry as you slash his throat and a spray of something warm, dark and wet hits your face.

 

As he falls back, gagging on his own blood, he pulls his blade from your arm and you turn just in time to knock the charging guy’s sword aside, the impact throws you against the wall but your backhand cut hamstrings him as his momentum carries him past. He falls to the floor screaming, clutching his leg and desperately trying to block possible attacks with his sword.

 

Feeling faint from pain and blood loss, you turn to face the last man. He stands there a few yards away with one of your pictures in his hands, looking nervous.

 

Alaric stares hard at him wipes his face of blood using his right arm’s shirt sleeve and says “You may place the sketch carefully on the ground and then I suggest that you go and seek help for Lauro – quickly.”

 

Er...I am er...” He drops the pictures and runs away.

 

Alaric rests the tip of his sword against the ground as he turns to see if Paolo is still alright he is keeping a weather eye on the Third Man.

 

He’s gone! Paolo’s staring wide-eyed in the darkness, looking from you to the men on the ground.

 

“Come on my friend – where is closer: your rooms, Salli’s, mine or the Cathedral?” He says quietly to Paolo “I need to get this blood stanched – it’s ruining my shirt and you probably need to report this attempted theft to someone. Are you alright Paolo?”

 

Mmm? Um, yes!...I think. Er...” He shakes his head to clear it and gestures after the vanished thief. “Salli’s is that way, just a block.” Then he seems to come to his senses. He rips your sleeve away, [it was ruined anyway] and uses it to bind your arm.

 

Behind you the hamstrung man wriggles up the alley past Mr Big, sobbing with pain and fear. Paolo’s staring wide-eyed in the darkness, looking from you to the men on the ground.

 

“I should wait there if I were you Lauro. Your friend has gone for help.”

 

The man clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes as he ties a kerchief round his leg. “I in’t Lauro, the coward ran off.”

 

Alaric takes a look at his arm “It’s only a little blood Paolo. Perhaps it could be washed at Salli’s room and then someone should be sent to report this blasphemy against the Goddess and the injury of one of the perpetrators still awaiting help in the alley. Perhaps you would mention it to someone who will act on the matter immediately? And, perhaps I should sit down for a little while. Let us go swiftly.”

 

He stops, surprised by your suggestion. After thinking for a second, he nods quickly, still in shock, and follows you out of the alley. “We’ll tell Salli, shall we?” At your instigation, he resumes the lead but you notice he keeps to well-lit streets now and so you take a little longer to arrive at one of the many arty basement coffeehouses in the city. “This is it,” he says, having regained some composure in the last five minutes. “She’s usually here in the evenings; more often than not.”

 

He leads you down the stairs and into a crowded, smoky, wine-drenched atmosphere. You have to keep close to him not to lose touch. About a third of the clientele are arrant poseurs, whether they have talent to match their image is impossible to say; the rest are people who just like being with artists. Paulo finds Salli at a table with three others in a far corner. Two are usual acolytes, the third you don’t recognise.

 

“Paulo,” smiles Salli, rising to hug him, “and Richard!” She clasps your good hand. “It’s been so long, almost a week. Get some drinks and join us.” Then she catches sight of your arm. “Richard, you’re hurt! What happened?”

 

“It was amazing!” interjects Paulo before you can speak, “He fought-off three art muggers.”

 

Salli’s eyes narrow at this news. “Sacrilegious scum!” she spits. “Sit-down Richard and tells us what happened. Move up Arno!” Arno is the new guy and he gives you a sour look as he gives up his seat next to Salli. Salli drops two cameos into Paulo’s hand. “Get the wine in, Paulo.”

 

She sits down again and gives you her full attention. “So, Richard, what happened?”

 

“I took a nick on my upper left arm. Most perplexing, but then I wasn’t expecting such creatures and such trade in Mirabeau. The encounter? Well, there were three of them and they attacked as we were on our way to see you actually Salli.”

 

She raises an eyebrow.

 

“They covered both ends of an alleyway and the large one demanded that I handed over the sketches that I was carrying.”

 

Tsk!”

 

“Well such an act is sacrilege in anyone’s theology”

 

She nods her agreement.

 

“So I made sure of Paolo’s safety, declined the ruffian’s offer, removed him from this world and disabled his companion as he aimed for my back. The third accepted my suggestion to leave us alone and fled the scene.”

 

Salli nods again in approval. “What did you do with the cripple?”

 

“I had not imagined that I would be championing art in such direct way this evening. I’d better have a quick look at this nick to make sure the blade hadn’t been interfered with. Poison is a complication that I could well do without this night.” Alaric starts to unbandage his arm and peers towards the wound to check on the blood flow.

 

Salli puts a restraining hand on yours. “No, let’s wait until we can get you to a physician.” You get the feeling that she wants to avoid seeing your blood, perhaps she’s squeamish. There doesn’t seem to be too much new blood on the bandage, though, and aside from the wound itself, your use of the limb feels good.

 

Alaric considers this statement in lieu of how his arm feels to him, nods to Salli and says “You know, I think my arm is recovering quite nicely. I will look at it more closely later Salli but I do not feel that it demands the close attentions of a physician – wine has renown as a universal healer – and here comes Paolo with some now.”

 

Then Paulo gets back with a gallon jug of wine.

 

“A toast. A toast to the defeat of the art muggers.”

 

“No!” contradicts Paolo, “here’s to Richard’s victory over the sacrilegious blasphemers.” His toast meets with general approval. “I knew my vision of you as a crusader was true.”

 

They all toast you in unison, even Arno.

 

Alaric nods in courteous acknowledgement of the toast and says “To the defence of art” and downs his glass in one.

 

Salli downs the drink and stands. “Come on! Let’s bring the Goddess’ Justice to these sacrilegious scum!”

 

There’s a general movement for the door and a loosening of scabbards. Paolo grabs the jug and makes to follow. What do you do?

 

“I assume there are legal authorities that such an incident should be reported to?”

 

“Obviously he must be officially condemned by a priest but we can pick one up on the way. Your testimony is enough to convict him and justice should be swift.”

 

Alaric leaps to his feet and says loudly “BY THE GODDESS YOU SHALL DO NO SUCH THING!”

 

The entire room goes deathly quiet and close on a hundred eyes turn your way, including Salli’s.

 

“The attack was on my art and my person and justice will be of Mira or of myself not of those who were not present and not of you either, Paolo. I act in the interests of the Goddess and I shall not see mob rule enacted in Her name or in the name of Art neither! There is NO justice in mob rule so be seated now and release your swords back to your scabbards.” Alaric is furious – how dare they interfere in his affairs when he is a Lord of Amber!

 

Salli’s look of incredulity beggars belief. “Richard? Didn’t you go to Miraday School? These men have blasphemed and they must die, by the Goddess’ own law. We are no ‘mob’; a priest shall be present to sing the anathema.” She turns away, herding the others before her, almost everyone in the room looks bewildered; there’s a few titters from the back followed a murmured, “Hush! This is serious!”

 

“Come on, let’s get moving people,” cajoles Salli. “Paolo, you can show us the way if Richard’s not keen.” She gives you a hard look over her shoulder. Your reluctance has lowered her view of you in her eyes when a moment before it was higher than it’s ever been.

 

Alaric ignores the titters and draws his own sword. He is livid that Salli should cross him over this and angry that the artists should be so brave when their target is hamstrung. He shouts again, “Then, Madam – if this is the law I shall enforce it – it is for me to take his life – and I need no audience but a Priest. Paolo – are you braver than you were less than an hour ago. You trusted me then. Will you not stand by me now? Find me a priest and meet me at the entrance to the alleyway!”

 

“Well if you’ve decided to come, come on then!” gasps Salli in exasperation. “We can get the priestess from the church on Pointiliste Street. I know Mother Bellano well.”

 

[The throng remains parted for you to follow but do you really want to wade though a crowd with a drawn sword?]

 

[Yes, but no if you know what I mean.]

 

Alaric places his sword back in its scabbard and walks out of the bar and heads straight back to the alleyway where the incident took place – he doesn’t want company.

 

There’s a problem with that. You don’t know the city well enough to take the direct route and Paulo led you here via a circuitous route to keep to the lit streets. With a small gang at his back, he’s now taking them direct. The only thing you can do is stay with them, the route you know would probably take longer than this one.

 

Just half a block from the bistro, Salli stops the group by a back door to a churchyard. She beats on the door and when a servant answers, quickly abjures a priestess to join the group, complete with her book of sacraments. She dons vestments as you walk to the site of the crime.

 

Presumably Alaric has his Trump deck on him? If so, try and make contact with Mira.

 

You make contact quickly. “Alaric!” comes her voice even before full contact. “Still here?”

 

“Nearly on my way back Mira – but I have several questions, I may be your prophet but I still lack the subtle nuances of Mirabeau and your will.”

 

Mmm!”

 

“Firstly, how does your law deal with an art mugger?”

 

“Any theft of art or act of violence against a work of art or an artist is sacrilege.”

 

Alaric nods, “As your law decrees then Mira – my victim is as guilty as sin.”

 

“Of course! In this place, sin is whatever I say it is.”

 

“…his accomplice is dead and he himself is hamstrung. Some artists are keen on slaying him and they’ve fetched a Priestess to aid them.”

 

“Well that is as it should be, Alaric. What’s your problem?”

 

“I say that his life is forfeit to me – and I suspect to you also. May I claim the man – I will overrule them to do so?”

 

“He can hardly be forfeit to both of us. This is my place Alaric; don’t forget yourself. If you’d been about our agreement this incident wouldn’t have happened. I suggest you go now and leave retribution to my priest and people. Mother Bellano will say the anathema and I will personally judge the accused as he dies. If he’s innocent, he has nothing to fear. If, as I suspect from your thoughts, he is guilty, his soul will suffer before his ultimate destruction. If you act without the anathema, then this will not happen and I will hold you guilty of murder and sacrilege.” She vents a delicate, mannered, yawn. “And for my prophet to be so would be very embarrassing for me, you understand?”

 

“Secondly, I would take an artist with me to Amber and I will build a school of art with him dedicated to your work. Is that acceptable to you?” Alaric walks quickly as he talks to Mira.

 

“I confess I am expecting something a little less passive – but as you will. I expect it will all come to the same thing in the end.” She gestures expansively, her hand emerging into your space. “Of course you may take the boy. How else will the future unfold? But please remember my ‘work’ is to oppose the Unicorn through gathering worshippers.” She smiles sweetly. “Do you have enough answers?”

 

Alaric smiles, takes her hand, kisses it formally and says “I have all the answers a prophet could possibly want at this point of time Mira – I regret that I will not have the honour and pleasure of your near company for the next while. I shall return to Amber on the morrow. Adieu”!

 

She nods and accepts your courtesy with a smile before vanishing.

 

Alaric breaks contact and looks up for Paolo.

 

You notice the contact lingers after you’ve broken just long enough for you to be aware that it does not follow your will.

 

Alaric would expect that she has stronger Psyche and it is her chosen skill in her demesne

 

Something like that.

 

He will stride out to catch Paolo up.

 

Paolo is leading the posse, gathered round Mother Bellano, chanting prayers softly.

 

Alaric says “Hurry Paolo! This part of Mira’s will...”

 

Paolo waves his hand in a quieting gesture and Mother Bellano holds a finger to her lips. Salli just glares. You’re still two streets away from the crime scene so perhaps they don’t want their prayers interrupted.

 

Alaric briefly glares back at Salli and then adopts an attitude of prayer and thinks, “and thus your law is carried out Mira – and I shall take his life.” He waits for the posse to move towards the victim. Alaric draws his sword and waits for them to move.

 

A few minutes later, you arrive at the alley. Mr Big is still lying in a pool of blood. The man you injured didn’t bleed all that much but he had to crawl through his friend’s blood to escape. Following his trail to the end of the alley, you find he crawled that far before hauling himself to his remaining good leg using the bloody door handle here.

 

Once in the street, his trail leads right, close to the wall where he could find support for his leg. It gets fainter as the blood dries but it is still just visible about 200 yards later, leading into a shop doorway. In the recess, leaning against the door for support, stands the terrified man you hamstrung. He holds his sword out in pathetic defence against the seven of you but you can tell from its shaking that it’s no real use.

 

“No!...please!...I was desperate...my wife, my children...we have to eat!”

 

As you step forward, Mother Bellano nods to you. “Remember – strictly according to the ritual.” Everyone looks from the man to you and back again as mother Bellona starts to chant the anathema, closely followed by Salli. Everyone else stays silent save for the man, who starts gibbering.

 

Focus on the act in hand. Err, he doesn’t know the ritual.

 

That’s right, you don’t! Do you use a sword or a knife, a club or a strangling cord? Do you cut in a certain place: throat, neck or heart? Exactly when in the ritual do you kill him? Do you perform any chants, gestures or signs before, after or during? You know nothing, in fact.

 

So he will look to mother Bellona to guidance [by look?] or Salli’s impatience.

 

The priestess is concentrating on her side of the ritual, obviously it’s important to get it right. Salli is just chanting with her, [Salli clearly seems to have a grasp of this sacrament], but a frown of concern is just crossing her face at your hesitation. Paolo starts wiggling his eyebrows behind Salli and surreptitiously nodding his head in a ‘go on!’ gesture. It looks like everyone but you knows what you should be doing.

 

Alaric will not permit anyone else to take the man’s life. He will beat their blades out of the way and take the man’s life as quickly and humanely as possible. He doesn’t like this – it is not to either his aesthetic or moral taste. And the idea of a posse of slightly pissed but terribly brave armed artists is distasteful to him.

 

[Well if you want to commit sacrilege yourself, go ahead, but remember Mira’s words, this is her shadow and any of your other relatives would feel extremely pissed-off if you misbehaved in their special places. BTW, neither Salli, Paolo or Mother Bellano seem even slightly drunk; their mood is deadly serious. It occurs to you that what this man has done is the equivalent of pissing on an altar during High Mass in 14th Century Florence.]

 

So he stabs Mr hamstrung straight through the heart [and hopes for the best].

 

As you bind on his wavering blade, it falls from his grip and he falls on his knees, bringing his heart within easy reach. As you draw back your arm for the thrust, a hand restrains the blow. Looking to your right, you find Salli, still chanting, holding her other hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture.

 

What do you do?

 

Shrug off Salli’s restraining hand [Alaric is a Lord of Amber after all].

 

You knock it aside and she doesn’t touch you again.

 

He waits for Salli’s sign [not really wishing to piss Mira off] and will act the second he can.

 

A dozen seconds later, the anathema reaches some sort of climax. Salli raises her hand slightly and then drops it on what turns out to be the antepenultimate syllable. Your sword despatches your victim just before the end.

 

He sinks back on his haunches, sliding back off your blade. He looks up at you blankly as he gurgles blood; all else is silence. One hand creeps up his chest to finger the wound pumping blood. Suddenly, his numbed face creases into a rictus of pain and horror. He coughs one last gout of blood over your boots and dies; terrified.

 

“May Mira have mercy upon your soul,” intones the Priestess. “Amen!”

 

As the Goddess’ name falls on your ears, you hear her speak in your mind. “Beware conceit, my prophet! Or it will be your downfall. He was always mine; never yours.”

 

Alaric wipes his blade on the victim’s body and sheathes his sword. He bows to the Priestess looks for Paolo and says, “I should like to partake of that wine again if you please Paolo”,

 

He makes to pass you the jug but Salli stays his hand. “Paolo, what are you thinking of?” She turns to take you both in. “Richard may not eat or drink before he is cleansed.” She lays a soft hand on your shoulder. “I know this was difficult Richard and I can see you’re shaken. Go with Mother Bellano now and she’ll shrive you. You’ll feel a lot better after. We’ll wait for you in...oh...the Dancing Brush.” [You remember seeing this inn opposite Mother Bellano’s church.]

 

Oh just absolutely splendid,” thinks Alaric. He raises his eyebrows to Paolo and says, “Later then Paolo. Wait for me at the Dancing Brush if you please.” Alaric turns to Mother Bellano and says, “I am to attend you now then Priestess.”

 

The priestess lays a supportive hand on your shoulder and leads you back to her church, a few blocks away. The others take their leave there and cross the road to the inn.