Journal Twelve
But unluckily for us, the Inquisition possessed the artifacts that the others needed for somesuch. The same curious artifacts that they had taken to the Castillian university.
And Volker's dracheneisen panzerhand and sword. Which he was going to return for regardless of what the others were going to anyway. William did thank me, albeit through Reynaldo. I guess three languages just isn't enough sometimes. I didn't relish the thought of going back, however, after executing a nearly flawless escape. But they were adamant. Volker and Patrik needed a touch of a doctor, and I was able to find one, not one with a practice, but one nonetheless. Paid for by a bit of backstreet gambling� I'm not really sure that I intended to come back into the keep of the prison, but I was going to watch the others if I could. So I fashioned a disguise for the observance. Fake leg and all. If only good ol' Berrin could have seen me then, laughing as only he could� So it wasn't the best disguise� I just didn't want to be caught like I was sure the others were going to be. I watched from a convenient corner, curious how five unarmed people were going to storm the stronghold of the Inquisition. Unfortunately for me, but luckily for them, two carriages held the answers that these new acquaintances of mine needed. None of them included the reckless charge. The first one was a puzzler. According to the others, it was an enemy of theirs, a Musketeer by the name of DuChevalier. What a musketeer was doing entering the Inquisitor base, I could only guess at, but needless to say he raised no alarm when he saw the others, recognizing William it seemed, as the Avalon waved back to him. No doubt his business was secret. The second carriage was no less a puzzler, but a welcome relief. Another associate of William and Reynaldo's was in the carriage. A Castillian, by the name of Montoya, who had a little more inspired disguise than I, it seems. A bishop. A Vaticine bishop. But unlike the Musketeer, he left with a full cadre of Inquisition guarding him and the carriage. It was understood that he had the artifacts and hopefully everything else. Not that I could see him. For a few moments, the five stood there, rejoined by myself, curious at what they had seen. And what they now were going to do. They stole some horses. They had to steal one for me. I'm a bit skittish around horses, I usually only try to lift things that are small enough to fit in my pockets. Horses do not, and I think they know it. The few times I've tried to make off with one, it was the horse, not the owner, that deterred me. They have rather sharp teeth. But we were off, after Montoya's carriage. With not a plan in mind.Return to Uncommon Valor