Eastern Spices (Richard/Dante)

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace watched warily as the old man jumped about the wagon, filling her basket with small wrapped packages and long thin bundles. He was a curious fellow, skin wrinkled and nut-brown, hair white and long, slanted eye creases so small, they almost disappeared in his face. The merchant supplier from the East chattered away in a nonsense language as he worked.

The large open area at the edge of town was the place where supply wagons arrived. In order to keep the inner streets cleaner, an edict from the palace years before had decreed that all supply wagons arrive here, and the merchants and tradesman transport their supplies to their own shops. It kept town carts cleaner and therefore the streets. But it was also an onerous duty for shop assistants, transporting smaller goods that had to be lugged by hand. Grace had arrived in the pre-dawn hours with her basket, but had to wait half the morning behind a long line for her turn.

The man's head bobbed and weaved as he handed back the basket, teeth flashing against his brown skin. Grace handed over the small bag of payment and the smile and gibberish language doubled. On the point of turning away, Grace was brought up short when the man touched her hair. Frozen in place, she watched with wide eyes as he brought out a long curly lock of her blond hair, jabbering away reverently at the gold that shone in the sun. Grace gulped and tried to smile, but her hand crept closer to the dagger at her hip.

The quick-eyed supplier noticed and laughed, dropping his hand. With a flourish, he produced a small jar and pushed it at her face, indicating she should take it. Doubtfully, Grace took off the jar lid; a white, creamy substance was inside, Grace's nostrils immediately filling with a delightful, herbal scent. When she returned a confused look, the man motioned to the jar, then made smoothing motions on his cheeks and skin. Ahh, a skin cream. Grace reached for her own, much smaller money pouch, but the man waved her away with a laugh, calling for the next person in line. As someone shoved by, Grace stepped away.

Turning back for the shop, she experimentally touched a finger to the cream, rubbing a little on the back of her hand. The scent was marvelous and her skin was now softer. Grinning at the little delight this otherwise ordinary day had brought, Grace moved on down the street.

[Richard Cabal]

Richard chuckled as he watched the exchange between Grace and the merchant, poor thing must not realize how rare hair her colour was in his world. Peeling away from the crowd, Richard shouldered his way to Grace.

"May I smell the cream?" He asked Grace with an impish grin. In truth, he wanted to tease her a bit for the exchange.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace nearly jumped out of her skin when a large presence formed next to her, but the deep, familiar voice of Richard eased her senses back to calm immediately.

"Richard, you gave me a start. And yes.... here." Grace raised her hand to the older man's nose, smiling in amusement as he sniffed like a pup. "It smells heavenly, don't you think? I wonder what's in it?" Holding up the small jar, Grace set it in Richard's large hand as she shifted her basket of spices to her other arm.

[Dante Grixis]

Dante was looking for a specific caravan this day. He went down the rows of wagons and finally found what he was looking for. Luckily for him the merchant spoke Spanish, a language he knew well. He looked over his wares and found what he was looking for. A small jar full of black balls. Opium. The best painkiller he had ever used. He used it rarely but it was much better than what he could normally get. Opium seemed to be a rather obscure and poorly known thing in this country. "¿Cuánto para el opio?" He asked the vendor, it felt good to use this language, he had barely done so since he arrived here.

The vendor smiled and told him the price, and Dante paid him for it and took the small jar and slid it into a pocket on his cloak. His hood was drawn up as usual. He thanked the vendor and left the caravan heading back towards his home. He saw a familiar face in the crowd and made his way over to Grace. He stood behind her and looked at the cream that she was showing to a male companion. I wonder what's in it? He heard her say.

"Smells to me to be lavender and some sort of citrus." He said in a chipper tone from behind her, his Spanish accent heavier from speaking in the language just moments ago.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace looked over a shoulder at the voice, then her face lit with delight. "Dante! I...." Momentarily speechless, the girl beamed up at the hooded man. The daylight did wonders for his normally shifty and shady appearance; now he looked like a pleasant young man out for a day at the market. At least Grace thought so.

Then Grace laughed. "You have an excellent nose, m'lord. Perhaps you should open a perfumery?" When Grace had spun to greet Dante, her back had faced Richard, and remembering their conversation of the other night, she sobered a little but not much. Her delight at seeing the younger man was clear.

An arm gestured to Richard, touching his chest lightly with the back of her hand. "Richard? This is the one I spoke to you of, the one who saved me from the brigands.... Dante. He is a.... a trader." Grace gave Dante a small but pointed look, trying to let him know with her eyes she'd not told Richard of his secret. "Dante, this is Richard, my...." Grace stopped. How was she to introduce Richard? She couldn't give the cover of 'Master' for Dante knew of her secret identity. But 'master-at-arms' seemed somehow pretentious. Finally, she added, "Richard became my guardian after my family was lost."

[Richard Cabal]

Richard was about to answer Grace when an unfamiliar voice interrupted them. He too spun around, the jar clutched in his left hand and looked the stranger, apparently Dante, up and down. Then, while Grace did the introductions, Richard dabbed his finger into the cream and rubbed it in his skin, sniffing his fingers for the result.

"Aye, I did." Richard answered and capped the jar to drop it into Grace's basket. "And if ye're at all genuine with what ye did for her the other night, then ye'll understand why I'd be suspicious of a 'hero' with connections in the slums and training in the fight. I've been protecting trader's for over a year, I know what they're able ta do."

"I hate circling around the bush, so I'll tell ye what I'm thinking. I think lies in the air and until I know some truth, I'll be considering leaving Camelot with Grace. Because ye know our secret and I consider us both in danger."

[Dante Grixis]

Dante bowed slightly to Grace and smiled charmingly at her before turning to face Richard. He looked to be about the same age, height and build. He spoke with an English accent and spoke his mind. Dante liked him already. He smiled at Richard and chuckled a bit. "Straight to the point. I like that." He took his hood off and ran a hand through his hair.

"I assume that you will hold an oath of silence?" He said more than asked. He knew that even if he didn't plan to Grace would convince him otherwise. Where to begin? He was quiet for a moment before he began to speak. "My name is Dante Grixis. I am from Italy, moved to Spain then came here. I am an assassin by trade, thus the skill with a blade and Brotherhood connections. As far as the safety of you and your lady go I'm sure that Grace can assure you that I mean no harm. The Beaumont family was not a target of the organization I work for that I am aware of, nor would I imagine that they will be in the near future."

He looked at Richard for a moment. "Enough truth for you?" He asked with a slight joking tone. He was sure that the man was in no mood to joke but getting him angry was a risk Dante was willing to take.

[Richard Cabal]

Dante's openess brought a real smile to Richard's face and he chuckled. Curiosity was also perked by Dante's mention of Spanish origins. He had heard little of the exotic lands and under other circumstances he would question Dante fiercely about them.

"Oh I wont be telling secrets unless you tell ours. I assume then ye don't kill unless ordered to? Or given coin, however all that works." To Richard, that was a relief. If Dante ever did attack them, he would know that someone had contacted this Brotherhood to finish the Beaumont's.

"Grace has been busily trying to assure me tha' you mean no harm, but that is a task that falls to ye not her. What is the Brotherhood's purpose?"

[Dante Grixis]

Dante nodded. "They're only a target if I get paid." He replied to Richard's question. He did not kill for pleasure or sport, only for gold.

He thought about the next question for a moment. The Brotherhoods purpose was a difficult thing to place. "The Brotherhood's purpose is to..." He paused and thought for a moment, "Employ people with talents that have no place in the... civilized world. Thieves, assassins, dark mages, anyone who would be considered an outlaw. We are given missions, we complete them, we get paid." He said. He was telling the truth. The Brotherhood had no true purpose. It was like a guild for criminals. They had no mission, though many members wanted to overthrow the Pendragons, but that was not a feeling shared by all members.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace was quite careful to keep her mouth closed during the exchange between Richard and Dante. First meetings were always tricky things and the first few seconds were laced with tension, especially from Richard's part. But then the older man smiled broadly, something quite surprising for Grace to see. Richard rarely greeted people so genially. With a quiet sigh, Grace began to relax.

Her brows rose in surprise when Dante told Richard.... well, basically everything. Perhaps he instinctively found Richard someone to trust, just as she did. Grace smiled up at her guardian, silently grateful for his strength of character and obvious honor. Richard was not a man to follow the trends of court or even law; he was, in a way, a law unto himself. His judgment never erred for he never acted irrationally or impulsively, getting all the facts before deciding on a course of action.

Grace returned her eyes to Dante, beginning a reflection on how handsome his profile was in the light of day, but after listening, her brow creased slightly. To hear Dante lay out the mercenary, even cold way in which the Brotherhood operated was somehow.... disturbing. What he described seemed at such odds with the kind and thoughtful young man standing before her.

Grace couldn't help but interrupt, eyes grown round and concerned. "How far goes your obedience to your Guild, Dante? What I mean is.... if you were ordered, if you were paid enough gold...." Grace wet her lips, her mouth gone dry. "Could you.... would you kill me?"

[Dante Grixis]

Dante turned his attention to Grace. He looked at her for a moment with a gentle look in his eyes. Could he ever kill her? After hearing how the Brotherhood worked she seemed frightened, much like their first meeting. He spoke slowly and softly, "My loyalty to the Brotherhood only goes as deep as I let it." He said and locked his eyes with hers. "There isn't enough gold in Camelot to have me kill you." He said quietly and with a small smile. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into her face back.

"If I was called upon to do that I would go rogue. I would probably end up killing Brotherhood members to protect you." He smiled gently and turned to Richard. "That is if Richard wouldn't mind the help."

[Grace de Beaumont]

Holding her breath through Dante's answer, Grace felt rooted in place by the power of his direct gaze. Distantly, she wondered at his eye color; something dark and smoldering. When his hand rose to her hair in a touch aching in its gentleness, Grace finally exhaled slowly, something in her chest growing tight. "Of.... of course," she whispered past a brilliant smile, eyes alight. "I trust you."

Feeling like she wanted to flutter her hands, shift, do something, Grace adjusted the basket perched on her hip and turned to look at Richard, joy and triumph on her face. "I told you he was gallant, did I not?"

[Richard Cabal]

Richard's insides went cold. The ready bloodshed Dante spoke of, the chaotic guild he was part of and his willingness to dishonour the connections he made seemed to indicated flightiness. Unreliability. Dishonour. Then there was that niggling worry at the back of his mind . . . Grace had not been surprised about Dante being part of the Brotherhood. It was possible that she had lied to him.

"Kill everyone? That is needless bloodshed," Richard said. "An' it would be putting us in danger for no better reason than to be heroic." He glanced down at Grace. "Heroics, gallantry . . . is overrated. It gets good people killed."

"So do ye often dishonour your connections fer people you barely know? Should we expect a change of heart when something new catches your eye?"

[Dante Grixis]

Dante's gaze towards Richard turned hard. He looked at him for a moment before he spoke. "I like to believe myself to be a good judge of character. I do not associate with those who kill for pleasure or sport, and a good amount of the Brotherhood would fall into that category. You and Grace, you two are honest, good people. That is something rare in this world. Something worth protecting." He said, his voice slightly cold.

He glanced at Grace for a second then back to Richard. "I doubt the time will come that the Brotherhood gets involved with the last Beaumont, but if it does come you should know, the Brotherhood has yet to default on a contract. You would not get far without my help." He said in a matter of fact tone. "I have given you no reason to not trust me, but that is your choice." He said, piercing Richard with his dark eyes.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Oh dear, thought Grace with rising panic. Ohdearohdearohdear. Sucking on her lower lip, her eyes darted back and forth between Richard and Dante.

"But.... but Richard..." Grace put tentative fingers on the older man's arm. "Dante just said he wouldn't kill everyone, didn't he? He said he would protect me if.... if the worst came to worst. Right?" She tried to smile but it felt forced. Again, she glanced back and forth between the men. "Let's just try to make sure it doesn't ever come to that, can we agree on that much?"