[Brion]

Brion had motioned Ebert to the back of the wagon - with the firm
instructions to jump clear if trouble came calling. The bailiff put better
odds on he and Mayce surviving if not worrying about a half-trained boy.

While the lawyer and the boy were settling themselves Hillrover swung his
large-framed body up into the seat, and finally urged the bays on.

The horses moved with a solid, dignified, gait, and Brion drove them with
practised skill as the wagon pulled clear of the narrow stable yard and
down the streets behind the Dragon's Inn. He kept their pace easy, and
nodded to acquaintances, and none found his watchful gaze unusual. Those
that knew him from the tent city remembered a quiet, but watchful
warpiper, who taught a rabble of frightened townsfolk how to protect what
remained of their homes. Others who knew him from around the court house
knew that he had not let the so-called "peace" of Montfort to take the
edge of his abilities. True, he carried the title of "bailiff," but few
doubted he watched Allenel Gilford's back.

The large red-head stayed silent during their journey. He listened as well
as watched as they passed stores and houses, and was even more watchful as
they traveled from farmland into forest. Only when he reached a side road,
with the dark of the forest about them, did his great shoulders ease. And
he smiled a little as the road broke into a clearing - with hardy mountain
ponies grazing in pastures. His smile widened further as he heard the
sound of children's laughter drifting light on the breeze.

A firm, "whoa," brought the bays to a stop near the barn, and Brion jumped
down from his seat.

He passed the reins over to Dafee, an older hand, and said to both the man
and Ebert, "Go ahead and get the supplies stored away."

Brion looked over at the lawyer and said, "This way then. Its more
comfortable up at the house for a talk." He didn't doubt that his
employees recognized Perrin Mayce for who he was, but none of them knew
that the investigator had been brought over.

[Perrin]

Perrin studied the town and the people as they rode.  And, for the
first time,  he was stricken by just how much he didn't know
about Montfort.    Its recent history was a matter of much public
conversation in many of the places he'd visited... but the town itself,
and the faces of its people, were very much alien to him.    As he
was to them, no doubt.    He thought he'd known everything of any
importance about Montfort prior to his arrival... but now he was
beginning to see how wrong he'd been.

He climbed down from his seat on the wagon and started toward
the house.   But he moved at a slower, more leisurely pace than
his usual determined stride.    He glanced around at the land and
those who tended it.     Inhaled the lovely scent of fresh...

...well, he WAS walking past a barn, so perhaps inhaling deeply
wasn't the best way to experience his newfound appreciation.   He
coughed lightly, and tried to force a weak smile to his grimacing lips.
After several failed attempts, he gave up and hurried toward the
house.

[Brion/Morrighu]


Brion tactfully continued to lead the way up to the farmhouse; a solid
two-story structure, with a porch that circled the entired first floor.
The building showed some signs of age, but more of repairs; part of it had
been painted in off-white, and the boards on the porch were solid; as was
the roof - from the looks of the new shingles. Some, though not all, of
the wavery glass in the windows had been replaced. A house that had been
home to the survivors of the Politi's Weavers' House, and seen some of the
Refuser plotting against the Church of the Redeemer.

They had barely reached the porch when the front door was opened by a
slender elven woman; though one of ethereal mein - as pale as first snow
with elegantly narrow face, eyes as blue as a winter day, and flowingly
long hair. Her garb was a simple gown of silvery blue silk.

Brion smiled in welcome and said, "Morrighu, may I introduce Mr. Perrin
Mayce?"

He turned to the lawyer and said, "And may I introduce, Morrighu, and an
old friend and guest."

The elven woman offered Perrin a gentle smile and her pale hand. "A
pleasure, Mr. Mayce," she said, with a voice rich in music, "Your timing
may be quite good..." She stepped back into the house so that Brion could
close the door behind them. "Mr. Filgers is starting to waken."

"Is Lanaera with him?" Brion asked.

Morrighu shook her head and said, "No, she was kind enough to take Sol'as
with her, but she has gone up to her room to do some sketches. Elektra
came over with Mr. Filgers from the Paevel Ranch, and has settled to
watching him."

"Not surprised," Brion said, with a small smile, "The lass takes her
responsibilities seriously." Though, he had already begun to suspect,
Elektra watched the half-elf with more than just an interest in duty. Nor
was he surprised to hear that Lanaera had secluded herself with her
designs; she would want to focus her energies on something - otherwise her
fury at what the Cult had done to Kisa Paevel and Niathina Welks might
burn too hot for her to contain. As they walked through the front rooms of
the house the bailiff glanced back at Perrin Mayce, and considered how
much the lawyer and the Politi mage had in common. Both had a grief that
ate into their gut, and one only work would momentarily quiet. He knew
that every time Lanaera looked upon the fair city of Montfort she saw the
flames of the Weaver's house....she saw the fires of the byre eating
away at her grandson.

"I'll send up bring up some refreshments," Morrighu said, gracefully
excusing herself while Brion led Perrin towards the back stairs.

"That would be appreciated," Brion said.

As he led the way up the stairs he added, "I make no complaint when the
ladies claim the house for themselves and the children ...they bring a
sense of 'home' to it that no bachelor can achieve. And its a pleasure to
see the youngsters hale and bright again."

[Perrin]

"I'm sure it is,"  said  Perrin as he followed.     He couldn't help but
note that he and Hillrover had something in common... both were
bachelors.    Perrin had no wife or children of his own... unless he
counted the occasional  apprentice that he took in, like William...

Perrin paused in mid step, stifled a stab of some inappropriate emotion,
and then continued up the stairs.

"I take it that the witness is safe here?"   he asked... seeking to
steer the conversation in a more useful direction.

[Brion/Others]

"One of the safer places for the lad," Brion agreed; by way of explanation
he added, "It was one of the Refuser safe houses back in the Church
days and has some residual protections." No need to add it had other
protectors now.

He led the way down a long and airy hall until he reached the third door
down, and eased the door open.

"Elektra, lass?" Brion said, moderating his deep voice, "Is yeung Filgers
awake?"

"Somewhat," came a feminine voice.

The bailiff swung the door the rest of the way open, and gestured Perrin
into a shuttered room, whose unflickering light came from large lamps. The
room smelled thickly of lavender and other herbs.

Elektra, looking neat in a fresh gown of pale green, but with fatigue
showing in her dark brown eyes, stood from where she had been sitting. She
brushed back a loose strand of brown hair and said, "Mr. Mayce would you
will it bother you if I stayed? Or, if that presents a conflict of
interest, I can ask Morrighu to come up and watch over the
patient." Despite being tired the girl maintained the same calm,
professional attitude she showed in Judge Gilford's offices.

The patient in question stirred on the bed in the center of the
room. Emmon moaned and again tried to brush at the heavy bandage around
his head.

Elektra moved quickly to the side of the bed, and caught the
investigator's waving hand before he pulled at the wrappings.

[Perrin]

"Of course you may stay, miss,"  said Perrin, wondering if he would regret
the indulgence later.  He glanced at the stool that Elektra had just
vacated, and thought it best if he left it for her.  He could take his
notes just as well standing up.

"Mr. Filgers?"  he said in a voice that was neither loud, nor soft.  "Mr.
Filgers, do you remember who I am?"

[Emmon/Brion/Elektra]

While Perrin sought to rouse the wounded investigator Brion slipped from
the room, quiet for such a large man, and returned with a chair, which he
left near the lawyer before leaving the room.

Elektra stayed near the head of the patient's bed, watching worriedly as
fretted at the thick quilts. "Mr. Filgers," she said, adding her inquiry
to Mayce's.

Slowly the sounds began to shape themselves from alien noise to something
akin to recognizable in Emmon's brain. A name...Filgers...he had heard
that before....a brawny man with sandy hair and tattoos on his
biceps....No, no....that was his father...these many years drowned....Or
maybe on a warm island with belly dancers....For a long moment he peered
up at the soggy sailor ....who was speaking another name....the sailor
turned into a graceful blond elf..high elf thank you...in her exotic
garb..she was saying, "Emmon, don't open the door while I'm at the
tavern. Keep it locked till you hear me call you."

"Yes, mama...," Emmon said aloud.

Elektra glanced at Perrin and said, "That's much better. Earlier he
thought he was fluffy."

"Mr. Filgers,"she said gently, but firmly, "We need you to wake up."

"No...school."

"You're in Montfort, Mr. Filgers," she said, "_Montfort_."

Emmon's pale blond eyelashes flickered and his ashen brow furrowed,
wrinkling his bandages, and he winced. "Montfort...," he said as if he was
tasting something acid upon his tongue.

[Perrin]

Perrin frowned as he watched his hopes for a fruitful session of
questioning sink slowly with every confused mumble.  The man barely knew
who or where he was... let alone what had happened to him.  The events of
the murder were still locked away in Emmon's jumbled mind... it was just a
matter of getting to them.  And doing it soon enough to be of use.

"We need your help, Mr. Filgers,"  Perrin said sternly.... not using the
patronizing tones of a nursemaid, but instead addressing the man as
what he was... a man.    "You're injured and you need your rest... but
WE need something as well.   Something that only you can provide."

Perrin's eyes sharpened as they examined Emmon's face for signs
of a satisfactory reaction.

[Emmon/Elektra]

More voices......one awoke a wistfullness in him.....but Emmon was hard
put to place where, or when, he had heard those voices.....

~Darkness....open your eyes....~ Such a logical idea. One couldn't see
much in the dark....

An alley suddenly filled with shadows. Knife-wielding shadows. A scream..

Emmon cried out and thrashed out at something only he could see.

Quickly Elektra leaned forward to grasp his flailing arms. "Mr. Filgers,"
she said firmly, "You're safe. You're in Brion Hillrover's house." Wake
up..." She considered touching his thoughts to help him to wake, but with
his confused state she feared any interference would make his memories
even more muddled. And she felt torn whether his remembering would serve
any good purpose; while she firmly believed in the law she also knew that
young William was far beyond help, and any leads could send Mr. Mayce, and
maybe Emmon Filgers, to hunting the murderers. Men, or women, who might
have been the focus of Emmon's and William's inquiries. Or they two could
have fallen foul of the many other predators that stalked the streets of
Montfort - a case of poor timing and worse luck. She felt confused by her
own reaction - normally she erred on the side of duty to the Law.

The half elf's eyelashes fluttered open and he lay gasping away the last
vestiges of a nightmare. Slowly he unfocused gaze traveled around the room
- touching on Elektra - then on Perrin.

"Notes," he answered, staring at the lawyer. Emmon could remember that
Perrin Mayce got notes.

[Perrin]

"Yes,"  Perrin said eagerly.   " Yes, the notes... you worked for me.
Investigating
a very important case."

[Emmon/Elektra]

Elektra sat down on the side of the bed, and kept a restraining hand
resting on the investigator's arm. "Mr. Mayce has come to ask you about
William," she prompted.

The wounded man stared over at her with worry in his blue
eyes. "William..?  I gave him notes..."

He could remember the warm light and loud laughter of the Dragon's Inn,
and William's delicate shade of green from too much good beer and strong
coffee.

They'd gone out to get some air....

Then the shadows came...........

"Run!" he cried.


[Perrin]

Perrin's heart sank slightly as he saw poor man's mind slip further
away from reality.    He was reliving the attack, most certainly...

...but, dammit, he wassn't SAYING anything!

"WHO WERE THEY!"   Perrin demanded.   The anger was false;  the
shout, intended to jar Emmon's mind loose from the dark place where it
was now lodged.   But whether it would return to reality or sink deeper
into
the abyss still remained to be seen.