Fetch and Carry (open)

[Dante Grixis]

Dante took a step back when she took one forward. One hand dropped to the hilt of his short sword. He had to be cautious. Sometimes you could be surprised by your foe. This girl could be holding a weapon for all he knew. His scar reminded him to be vigilant. He listened intently to her speak. What was his price? Money? Supplies? No, he needed something useful. "I require silence. No word of what transpired here will ever leave your mouth." His hand fell off of his blade and hung by his side now. He was staring at the girl with his dark eyes.

What kind of information would this girl want from a killer? Her earlier speech was cryptic to him, he could not discern a meaning from it. He examined her face and posture. She was a peculiar one. The accent she had been using earlier was now obviously fake, she was of higher birth then she let on. But why? He wasn't sure he could trust this one. She could be a spy for the king, or from another realm.

He could see fear in her eyes. Her poise did not let it show but her slight facial movements couldn't hide it. She was worried. He scared her. And that was good, people could be talked into anything when they were afraid. Fear was a valuable asset to an assassin, and he might have to use it to his advantage in the coming moments.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace tried to not notice the hand dropping to the man's weapon, but prickles of adrenaline shot the surface of her skin. Her breath quickened and it was all she could do to remain calm. Eyes dropping to the floor, Grace showed her submissiveness and took a silent step back.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should not have approached but I am desperate." Would he really kill her, this stranger of whom she didn't even know a name, who pierced her eyes with his unsettling, penetrating gaze? Here in a public shop.... in broad daylight? That was something that had never occurred to Grace and she began to truly fear for her life, but when he named his price, the girl's terror turned to confusion.

"My silence? But you could guarantee that easily with...." Her eyes flickered to his sword, then realisation dawned. He doesn't want to kill me, not really. Closing her eyes, Grace gave a silent prayer of thanks to have stumbled onto not only a member of the Brotherhood, but evidently one with a soul. Eyes opening, Grace nodded in agreement.

"My word on my family honor, I won't tell what's happened here. But in truth, once I reveal the nature of my quest, you'll hold your own set of secrets over my head." She tilted her head to the side. "Again, possibly a good barter?"

A man's deep totured coughing sounded outside followed by a hack and a spit, and Grace startled with panic. "My employer!" she yelped, spinning around and backing away from the door. "The barmy fool has come in early! Please...." The last was directed at the stranger, and again Grace felt awkwardness because she didn't know his name. "Please.... can we meet this evening, after I get off work? Please?" Raising her voice artificially, Grace called out in a louder voice, "Oh, thank ya, sur! Y' saved me ever so much trouble by carryin' th' buckets. Thank ye kindly!" Her eyes rolled to the man, pleading him to go along with the charade.

[Dante Grixis]

Dante heard the loud coughing approaching the door. He looked past to see a large man coming towards the shop. What possessed him to go along with the act was beyond his reasoning skills. "Oh, well it was no trouble at all miss." He said and smiled charmingly as he pulled his hood over his head again. He nodding in greeting to the shop owner as he entered and walked into the back of the store. He was met with a loud grunt of acknowledgment.

He turned his attention back to Grace and said "I will meet you outside this shop at nine thirty tonight. Come alone." He reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled out a golden coin. He dropped it onto the floor where it bounced off the stone once and clattered to the floor again before it lay still, glistening in the sun that poured in through the window.

"For the apple." He said and gave her a charming smile with much darker implications. He took three steps and exited the shop and quickly walked out of sight, disappearing in the crowd.

[Grace de Beaumont]

"I will be there," Grace murmured, then looked down at the coin the man threw to the floor. She stared at it and felt a flush of shame. There would be something extraordinarily about stooping to retrieve that coin from the ground. Like she wasn't even worth the bother of giving it hand-to-hand. Like I'm something dirty and beneath notice.

Grace raised her head, about to tell the man she didn't want his filthy coin but he was already gone, disappearing like a shadow in daylight. Another chill crept through her, and she began to dread the hours before nine-thirty would come.

[Dante Grixis]

((Time lapse...lol))

The hour of the meeting was fast approaching. Dante slung his cloak over his shoulders and left his small home in the slums and headed towards the marketplace. He was worried about the meeting. His blades were strapped to the belt around his waist and his hood was up, the dark of night completely hiding his face from view. There were few people outside at this hour.

As he stalked along the dark streets he saw the figure of Grace standing outside the shop. He slowly approached, examining her. She appeared to be unarmed and alone as instructed. That put him at ease a little but he wouldn't let his guard down. He stood four or five feet away from her and said "Now, what is it that you'll ask of me?" His voice cut through the silent darkness like a knife.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace startled badly when the man materialized out of shadow. She clutched her hands together in an attempt to stay warm, for the night's chill had settled in hard. A breeze promising the bitterness of winter moved her hair as she pressed her lips together, wondering how to begin.

"Thank you for coming," she began simply, then frowned, noting his position far from her. She could hardly shout her history out for anyone hiding in the shadows of the street to overhear. Fishing in a pocket, Grace brought out the coin he'd dropped earlier, held it up so he could see she had no weapon, then stepped closer. "Take this back. That apple wasn't part of the shop's inventory -- it was my lunch. I gave it freely out of goodwill. There are certain things that should never be bartered."

Glancing around, Grace worried again at their privacy. "Is there - someplace else we can discuss this? I don't want to be overheard."

[Dante Grixis]

Dante tentatively took the coin back an slid it into his pocket. Goodwill towards an assassin? That was something he couldn't ever remember hearing before. This girl was a strange one, she trusted him when she knew full well that he had it in his power to kill her where she stood. Perhaps she was a good judge of character and could see that evil as he may be he did indeed have a soul, though after years of killing it must be as scarred and twisted as his outer appearance.

She wanted to go somewhere more secure. "Well miss, where would you suggest? The only places I can think of are either full of people, or full of Brotherhood." He replied. If she didn't want to be overheard a bar was out of the question, and there was no way in hell he was taking her back to his home even if she would go. And what did she have to tell him that she didn't want to be overheard? Now Dante was genuinely interested.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Where to go -- now that was a good question. Grace glanced behind; if she were to break into the Apothecary Shop, it could bring uncomfortable questioning by the Royal Guard. But Grace had no desire to repeat a visit to a rowdy tavern; her one experience in a place like that had left her feeling slightly soiled. And going to someplace filled with Brotherhood..... she was taking a terrible risk now talking with one of them. The girl had no desire to commit suicide by walking into a nest of them.

"Back here." Grace motioned then walked to the side of the shop, down a cramped and filthy alley. The place was far too small to drive a cart down so it ended up being both storage area and midden heap. There was only room for one person to pass single file and the smell, while unpleasant, was tolerable.

Grace turned and clasped her hands together against the chill. She took a deep breath and began. "Far north of Camelot within the Kingdom of Mercia lies a small border shire named Hwicee. For generations the nobles in Beaumont Castle held the land in stewardship for the King of Mercia, peaceable woodsmen and sheep herders being the bulk of the citizenry. About a year ago, small raids began happening in Hwicee. It was thought this was the work of a roaming band of brigands. One night, the small castle was attacked without warning, the surrounding village torched, everyone in sight killed. Gilbert de Beaumont, Ealdormen of Hwicce, Justiciar of Mercia and his family were slaughtered."

Telling the story was painful, especially stating the events in such brief clinical cold details. The knuckles on Grace's hands grew white with tension. "The attackers that night were not a simple band of brigands or thieves, who typical grab what they can and run. This was a calculated, planned effort, the killers acting with cold precision and efficiency. They were not interested in loot but in killing." Grace's eyes glittered in the shadows as she added bluntly, "I want to know.... was this your Brotherhood who did this atrocity? If it was, who paid them? Who ordered the extermination of the de Beaumont line?"

[Dante Grixis]

Dante listened to the story she wove in the small alleyway. He was able to assume that she was of the Beaumont line, or had some close relation with them. He knew that the Brotherhood was powerful, but he doubted if they had the power to usurp an entire kingdom in one calculated attack. He had only been a part of the Brotherhood for a few months, even if they had done this he had no knowledge of it.

"I'm sorry but I cannot help you. I do not know if they did this to you or your family. I have only been in the Brotherhood a short time, and if they did I don't know about it." He replied quietly, though his low voice echoed down the alley. "I highly doubt that they did this though. I would imagine that it was another organization...or another kingdom." He said.

Perhaps the Pendragons themselves called this attack. Or maybe a band of powerful rogues. The possibilities were endless and he couldn't imagine who would've done it.

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace held her breath as the stranger replied but as he finished, she exhaled slowly, slumping against the wall in defeat. Why had she hoped for more? After a year's journey, she was tired of waiting for scraps of information to trickle by her notice. This gambit of throwing herself on the mercy of a member of the Brotherhood had failed; he knew nothing and that's what she now had..... nothing.

"But...." Grace swallowed heavily, looking to the man with desperate eyes. "Could you possibly ask around? Maybe someone knows something, heard of a.... of a plan, or a.... someone high who wanted...." She stopped, realising the futility. The feeling of hopelessness was crushing.

"I'm sorry," Grace choked out, head dropping low so her hair blanketed her face. "I can ask no more. You've been very kind to be so patient. I'll keep your secret." She gave a small laugh, without humor. "I don't even know your name." Squaring her shoulders, the girl raised her head again and looked the stranger in the eye. She had failed but clung to what was familiar -- a stoic bearing and a tragic sort-of defeated pride.

[Dante Grixis]

Something about her defeated posture and saddened look tweaked at Dante's heart. She reminded him of a young girl, lost and helpless in a new place. He might be an assassin, but he wasn't without compassion. He sighed heavily. He should walk away and leave the girl to her fate. He shouldn't give her false hope about finding answers here. Without his logic's consent he said,

"I will do what I can to help you Miss Beaumont, so long as you maintain your silence."

He wasn't sure if he would even mention this to anyone else, but seeing her so broken down caused his earlier anger at being found out to turn into empathy for the girl. It was this same kind of situation that had led him down the dark road to becoming an assassin. He knew she wouldn't kill people for a living, but such a thing had many dark paths to tread. She needed a little hope. Hope was a light that shined in the darkest places of the world, and here in Camelot it seemed like all the lights had gone out for her.

[Grace de Beaumont]

"Grace," she replied tiredly. "It's just Grace. It's probably time I realized the Beaumont family name is gone." Wiping a hand across her face, Grace decided she was just too tired and heartsick to pester the man further. When he made his offer to search further, she glanced up dully.

"You shouldn't do that; it could get you into trouble with your....people." Grace gave the man a close, curious look. "You know, I can't say I've met many assassins in my life but you are.... one of the nicest." She snorted gently. "I don't mean to insult you if you are trying to be all dark and mean and growly but.... carrying the water for a stranger? Meeting me out on this cold night for no money....?" Grace gave a half-smile. "Your fellows will think you've gone soft."

Impulsively, Grace stepped forward, her hand squeezing his arm gently. "Thank you for all you've done but I will ask no more. I will keep your secret -- no one would believe the word of a common shop-girl anyway." Dropping her hand, Grace smiled once, stepped away and brought a thin shawl over her head. Stepping out of the alley, she sighed and headed back to the inn where she and Richard were lodged.

Her head was bent against the cold night and sadness, so Grace did not notice two shadows across the street slip out from behind a building and move her way.

[Dante Grixis]

Dante laughed a little bit at her comment. "Well thank you mi...Grace." He smiled at her. He remained still as she passed him and turned to watch her walk down the street.

His gaze turned to steel as he saw two figures, clad in black begin to follow Grace. He got a quick look at their faces, they were not Brotherhood. If they were he would just have to let them do their job, but since they weren't he stepped out from the alleyway and yelled "Oy! Away from the girl!"

The two men turned, exchanged looks and drew out their blades. One wielded a long sword, the other two short swords. Dante drew his blades out just in time to block a vertical strike from the twin bladed man. He followed up quickly with a double stab but it was batted to the side. Dante barely moved out of the way of a slash from the long sword. Dante ducked under one strike from the twin blades and stabbed upward, catching his enemy in the chest, dropping him in a pool of his warm blood.

Dante yanked his blade from the body and spun around to try and hit the man with the long sword. His hard strikes were blocked and quickly followed by a stab. Dante jumped out of the way of the blade and thought to himself that these men were well trained, they were not simple street thugs looking to rob Grace. Most likely they were sent to finish the job they had started in Northern Britain in Castle Beaumont.

The next strike came with lightning speed, Dante could only half block it. The long sword connected with his right forearm cutting a deep slice that started bleeding immediately. Dante cried out in pain and dropped his long sword. He quickly stabbed with his short sword and as expected it was blocked. He kicked his enemy hard in the chest knocking him off balance for just one moment, just long enough for Dante's blade to run across his throat.

He re-sheathed his blades and began to look at his wound. It wasn't life threatening, it hurt like hell though. It wasn't too deep and hadn't cut anything essential. He turned and walked to Grace. "You're ok?"

[Grace de Beaumont]

Grace has pressed herself against a wall when the fighting began, momentarily stunned by terror. The battle was quick but vicious, and her stomach twisted as she stared with horror at the two attackers dead in the street. Grace was no stranger to violence; the past year on the road had it's share of brutal encounters for the most part deftly taken care of by Richard.

Reflexively, Grace shrank away when a shadow came before her but she relaxed slightly when she realized it was the Brotherhood stranger. "Uh.... yeah. I... didn't have a chance to.... to...." To what? Cower in a corner? Run away? She brushed a shaking hand across her mouth and swallowed heavily.

"You're.... very fast. I guess I have cause again to thank you." Grace looked again at the ground. "Do you know who they were? Thieves or drunkards after quick coin, or....?" Looking back at the man, Grace's eyes dropped to his arm and widened. "You're bleeding." She stepped forward immediately, grasping his arm in both hands to peel back the fabric. The cut was long and bleeding freely, dripping warm through her fingers but in the darkness she couldn't tell how deep.

"Come with me..... I know a quiet place to clean this up." Grace tugged peremptorily at the man's sleeve.

[Dante Grixis]

Dante gently pulled his arm away from Grace and put this sleeve back over it. "I'll be fine. It's not bad." He though about it though and said "But I suppose if you want to clean it up I have no choice but to let you." As Grace led him down the street to where ever their destination might be he said "They were not simple thieves, they were too skilled for that. They weren't Brotherhood either." He began to wonder who the men were, and who sent them. The idea of another criminal organization that rivaled the Brotherhood was an unsettling one.

As they walked Dante pulled a white cloth from his cloak and wrapped it tightly around his arm. It really wasn't a bad cut, he had survived much worse many times. The mark it would leave would be faint and almost unnoticeable.