Flashes in the Darkness

by Jennie Arnold

A lonely girl falls in love with a charismatic revoluationary speeker during the French Revolution. Told from two different points of view.

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Introduction

The French Revolution was not a sudden thing: The people of France were critical of their king and the government, even before took the throne. The old king was killed and the dolphone, Louis was threatened while he was still a child. Mobs came to his mother's door and demanded that the prince be brought before them to be crowned. Louis' nurse begged his mother to stop them from taking the boy but the queen believed that Louis was too young to understand what was happening anyway. He would only think it was a game. Of course, the young boy was terrified when he saw the mob covered in blood. He did not know that the blood was that of his own father.

The people of France may seem like hard people who are bent on destruction. They are merely desperate people. The people of France are literally fighting for their lives. They had asked the king to ease the burden he had placed on them. The peasants were literally starving! In their minds, it was either the king's death or their own. They resented the rising and unequal taxes, the persecution of religious minorities, and government interference in their private lives. The people of France wanted to take Louis in as their own. They thought that Louis would be able to see the evils of his father and turn away. Unfortunately, their wishes never came true. Louis was just as selfish as his father had been.

The middle-class (called the bourgeoisie) overthrew the Old Regime because that regime had given power and privilege to other classes—the nobility and the clergy—who prevented the bourgeoisie from advancing socially and politically. The middle-class was the largest class and the people believed that their class' size entitled them to some respect. Most monarchs know that the Mob (giant groups of people) always win when they fight the government. People make the government so people can destroy it. Louis, the king of France, gave power to the nobles and ignored the blight of the middle class. These resentments, coupled with an inefficient government and an antiquated legal system, made the government seem increasingly illegitimate to the French people. The royal court at Versailles, which had been developed to impress the French people and Europe generally, came to symbolize the waste and corruption of Louis' reign.

Louis started out as the king the people had wanted. He established a better financial system of governing. Louis knew that the nobles all wanted to be in control. He wanted to keep his eye on them and gave each of them an invitation to live in the palace with him. If they declined his request, the noble family was forced to come. This treatment may seem harsh, but Louis had good reason to fear the upper-class. In the past, barons from their own court overthrew many kings. The rest of Europe's monarchs admired Louis. The other courts of Europe came to France asking for advice and came away with tales of grander. Dignitaries described the palace of Versailles as the jewel of France. They did not see the turmoil that befell the streets of France. The nobles that saw the angry mobs in France felt one of two things: greed or fear. Some nobles worried that a revolution would take place in their country and that they too would be overthrown. Others felt that this would be the perfect time to invade France. No one succeeded in their goal to take France or to stop the rise of the new area of freedom. Maybe this is because no one really knew (or knows) way the change took place.

Historians argue why the change in France took place and continued to spread. Some blame Louis' naivety and sheltered life. Maybe he thought they were happy to help their country… Others blame the financial problems of France. Economic recession in the 1770s may have frustrated some bourgeois in their rise to power and wealth, and rising bread prices just before the Revolution certainly increased discontent among workers and peasants. Yet it is now commonly believed that the revolutionary process started with a crisis in the French state. This story shows one of the many triggers that caused the revolution to take place.

Flashes in Pools

Briane Saphire looked out the window as flashes of yellow and red zoomed by him. Any on-looker would assume that the young boy was simply taking an afternoon carriage ride on a beautiful fall morning but the truth of the matter was much graver. Brian was on his way to see his parents at the courthouse.

Marble steps led up to a large mural covered door. The door opened into an almost-too-lovely-to-be-gaudy room. Every corner was covered in crystals. Everything from pillows to chandeliers gave a deceiving sparkle. The courthouse was the largest and most majestically decorated in town but no one wanted to go there – well, that isn't true. Some lawyers and judges do enjoy going to the courthouse each morning. Still, Briane was not happy to be going to the dreadful place.

The fact that the building was "a beautiful example of Romanesque architecture," did not make the courthouse any more inviting to Briane. Briane could not squelch the feeling that he was meeting his doom. In truth it was his father who was on trial for a robbery. Briane would stick his blond head into the aisle way to sneak a look at his father and the old man would smile at him in triumph as if he knew he would win. Briane was a little less sure of success. Just last week a jury had sentenced a man named LaBamlme to a life sentence for a lesser crime. The machinery LaBamlme had stolen was worth a lot of money but not a man's life, Briane thought sadly when he read the article had been read to him at school to complete a project latter that week.

The article seemed to mean even greater doom as he looked up at his father, who seemed so confidant. Briane looked at his father's back and saw how stiff and unsure he looked. "He's putting a happy face on for me," muttered Briane sadly… His father saw the impending doom in all this as well. Brian had hoped that his father knew something he did not. He wanted his father to have some secret plan to win. The longer the case progressed, the more certain the doom became. There would be no secret plan for success and no happy ending for the Saphire family. Briane looked down sadly, not wanting to see the jury look at his father with contempt-filled eyes. What did these twelve people know that made them so special? Why was it their opinion that would decide the fate of not only his father but also of himself?

Brian knew nothing of court systems – he never had to know anything about them! Before today they were just something you had to know in school. It was like a jury was a dead thing that became extinct yesterday but it became incredibly real today. The things that were vitally important yesterday were thrown by the wayside today. Nothing was the same and no one would tell Brian why such a drastic change needed to take place. The driver, the police and even his own father acted as if none of this concerned him. Didn't they see that this one event had changed his full life!

Water's Blink

It was the year of the revolution according to the all-knowing newspapers. The Times and Globe and Gazette all said the same thing: The coming year would be different because the people wanted it to be. The world wanted something new and different than it had received a year ago. Ten thousand people stood anxiously watching and drinking as the town crier climbed onto the platform and yelling out the few remaining seconds of the same, cyclist time. "Three! Two! ONE!"

Briane himself had yelled with them for the last number. He had not been one of them though. He was too young to understand that there was even a need for a better time to come. He just felt the charged air and saw the smiling excitement in everyone's eyes. It made him feel warmth within himself. Briane let his senses get dragged in the sway of the crowd… He saw what they saw and wanted what they wanted. Everyone was connected and he yearned for that connection. This place was like no other place. The crowds made this place special – even the crowds at stores and rallies, which were much larger, had not been as sincere and sensual as the group gathered before the ball.

With the waving of hands and the vast sways of the throng, a familiar face appeared. "Oh, Jose!" Kyle, Briane's father yelled through the roar that was constantly around them. The balding man turned and smiled down at Briane as he said, "Hey, Kyle." Briane smiled up at him sensing that it was what his father wanted. If it was up to Briane, Jose would not even get a wave of acknowledgment. The balding man scared him because of the falseness in his eyes. The man couldn't even make eye contact with his father when they spoke! The man had to be hiding something and Briane did not want to find out what it was. He wanted to ignore the bald man and never see him again. Still, his father had different ideas…

Shimmering Champaign Glasses

Two dark-haired women sat in a café laughing with content. The woman on the left was tall and lean with a purposeful expression on her face and dignified eyes. The woman on the right was little more than a girl. No on-looker would imagine that she was old enough to be a mother twice over. Her face had rosy cheeks and her eyes were alight even when the woman cried with delight. The two of them looked nothing alike but it was easy to see that they were close. They leaned in to each other so that their heads touch and stare into a keyhole to get a glimpse of the gentlemen sitting in the room inside.

"What about that one, Iris?" The girl on the right whispered as she gestured to the left corner of the room. The man she pointed to looked dignified with dark hair and eyes in a dark suit.

"No," answered the woman on the left seeing from the man's baring that he was not the type of person her father would be interested in. "She's going to hate us when she finds out that we are innocuous with the Baron." The tall woman frowned at the thought but continued to look out the key hole.

They took turns pointing out men but the search quickly turned into a joke. They had to fight to keep themselves from laughing out loud as they pointed to the most auspicious men in the small room. It seemed like hours of fighting to the two ladies and soon the laughter could no longer be fought. After only a few minutes at the key hole, they burst into mirth. "Ah-hem!" said the owner of a loudly cleared throat behind them. The two women turned and saw a shout man with no hair. "Sorry," they whispered as they taunted up the stairs to their chambers.

They entered the first door on the left with the bright-blue handle that told occupants that the room was sanctioned for ladies of status only. The two ladies started laughing before the door was even closed. They were rolling on the floor when they noticed the room's other occupant: a short woman with dark blond hair. It was Orchid Michelle Ramante, the Duke of Domaneti's only daughter. Her blue eyes glinted like ice as she saw the co-conspirators smile up at her.

"Orchid!" Shouted Jasmine whose young eyes showed both surprise and mirth. "What a surprise to see you here."

"I live here," Orchid reminded her. "What are you two laughing at?"

"We were minding our own business when the butler came up from behind us." Iris lied easily – after all, it was only half a lie! Orchid had known Iris a long time but everyone with half a brain would know that she was lying now. Although both Jasmine and Iris enjoyed tormenting the servants, neither one enjoyed it quite this much.

"What were you two doing?" asked Orchid with a visible frown to show the two that their games would not work today. She stood with her arms crossed and Iris knew that she would have to do better than that to trick her old friend. Iris and Orchid had grown up together and they had gotten to be able to read each other's body language very well.

"We were just looking at the gentlemen from court…"

Jasmine cut in before Iris could start to babble incoherently. "I know that you really hate the idea of a forced marriage but if you don't choose someone your father will pick for you!" Jasmine's face was flushed as if the very idea of the Duke's choice sickened her. "No one knows you better than us. We can point you in the right direction and then you can convene your father."

Orchid almost smiled. It was obvious her two friends were trying to help and she was touched that they cared so much – but she knew that her father would never approve of any choice she chose: The Duke would say that his daughter should not even look at the young men. They might think she was too forward and then she would never marry into a proper family.

"Thank you for trying…but my father would never allow such a thing," Orchid reminded them with a firm voice.

"Your uncle asked us to do it," Orchid gasped at Jasmine's statement. Her uncle was known as a kind man but he was also entering Louis' Assembly. He was an ambitious man who needed an opportunity to show his power. What did he have to gain from her marriage? Jasmine began before Iris could stop her from explaining all the weeks of work they had done.

"You two have been trying to find a suitable suitor for me all this time! You have never left the palace grounds. How can you find someone that is of the proper age and rank?"

Iris looked Orchid in the eye and said with all seriousness, "All relationships take a bit of trust to start."

Orchid sighed knowing that arguing was futile. She crept down the stairs with the other two girls to glance at the men once again.

Children and Light in Night

Briane watched as Jose and Kyle whispered to each other. The two heads touched forehead to forehead and both men had their eyes closed. Briane moved closer to the adults and hoped that he could hear. He was so close that he could touch the hem of his father's trousers but still he could not hear what the older men were saying. After a moment the two men pulled apart. Jose's eyes looked into Kyle's with an intensity that made Briane stay where he was. He sensed that the conversation was not over and didn't want to miss any details of their plans. His father's eyes swiftly moved down to where his son still gripped the place where his pants met his hose.

"We're done," he said to his son. The boy smiled and was glad that his father was his again. Briane had officially decided that he did not enjoy sharing his father. His father was his and his alone! Other men had worked with his father but Briane had never felt any animosity towards them. Those men had seemed like they just wanted to help his father if it himself as well. Jose only seemed to care about these secret plans.

The two men seemed to enjoy keeping secrets. Everyone likes a good secret, Briane chided himself but then Briane remembered why he so disliked Jose: these were not those types of secrets! Fun secrets are the kind that you tell a friend so that the two of you can be closer. Kyle and Jose were telling secrets to keep some one out.

Briane may be a child but he has long over-grown the stage where you truly believe that the world revolves around you. Briane knew that it was not he they were trying to keep out but he also saw that they were not trying to let him in… That meant that Jose would always be his enemy!

Kyle and Briane walked hand in hand back to the small flat that they rented. They walked past several bakery dens and sweets stores. Briane stopped at every one and asked with excitement making his voice raise. "Are we going to eat here?" Briane did this at every store they passed. His stomach began to rumble and protest the lack of attention. "Can I get a candy?" Of course, Kyle told his son no after every one of these episodes. Finally at the last store before the residential street, Kyle told his son that he could buy a small crème. He knew that the boy needed more than that but it all he could afford for now.

The boy continued to smile as they walked into the cold living quarters they shared – he was so happy that he had continued to smile from the store all the way there. I should have bought him a little more…thought Kyle. After all, Jose is giving me some more money for that weird secretarial job.

Jose had hired Kyle for one reason: Kyle didn't think! The man was so desperate for money that he would do anything. Human beings did their best to rationalize everything. Kyle wanted the money to be coming from a safe place. His mind let him think what he wanted.

Blood of the Heart

Weeks came and gone and time passed without anything significant in Orchid's life to mark it as memorable. She went to court and to balls as she always did. Nothing seemed new or special. Her father had introduced her to a man here and a man there. None of them really interested her. Orchid was not a shallow person. The fact that every man the Duke brought was old and ugly did not matter as much as the fact that none of them looked at her eyes when she spoke. Still, there would be an occasional perfumed letter in her father's box but Orchid never finished reading any of them through before she rejected them in despair. They always seemed to start with complements about her "perfect face" or "heavenly eyes" and then the suitor would move on to why he was so great… That was usually when they revealed why they were still single and rich bachelors in a world where every woman needed a husband. It seemed like these men did not live in the same world she did. She expected them to be politicians and generals (two things she knew little about) but she still thought they would live in the same world.

Orchid was dragged from ball to ball with her father and attendants. Three balls in less than three weeks seemed like a little too much. She knew that married life offered few distractions but still, enough was enough. She was about to loose hope and just go through the motions when Iris grabbed at her arm and gestured to the far corner where a group of men stood.

She glanced in their direction but tried not to stare. The group had six or seven men in it and they all clustered around each other talking in joyful voices and laughing. At first, all she could see was the back of their heads. The three men in the front suddenly moved to the side and she saw it: perfection! The man had dark hair and deep eyes and spoke of insight.

She thought of going over to him but the words of her father went through her head. Don't seem too forward, she reminded herself. She reached for Iris' hand and held onto it for courage.

"We'll have to wait for them to come to us," Iris whispered to Orchid, knowing that her friend was not patient. She listened to the men's conversation as she waited for them to notice her. The men spoke of tennis and cricket. The man who had interested Orchid so much spoke of Hobbs and Lock. Orchid smiled remembering how much her father had complained about paying for tennis and horse riding lessons when all she did when she came home was run up to her room to write. She smiled as she studies him: He had dark hear that was cut high but still managed to go over his forehead in the front. This man may be handsome but he also seemed to be warm. His friends laughed and smiled at everything he said.

Orchid thought that she was being discreet and not staring but apparently people noticed. Her father walked over to her and whispered, "Let me introduce the two of you."

The two of them walked across the room until they stood before the group of gentlemen. The six friends that stood beside the handsome man moved away at a glance from the man. "Don Jose Menticcili! Your father and I stood unified before the courts years before you were born."

"Yes, my father speaks very highly of you."

"Don, may I present me daughter, Lady Orchid," the old man gestured to his daughter and began to back away, hoping that leaving the young people alone would help spark romance.

"My lady," the Don bowed to her and held out his hand for her to take. Remembering her manners, Orchid took his hand and was led on to the dance floor.

Musicians played a waltz softly on violins as Don Jose led Lady Orchid around the dance hall. Orchid had danced at balls with handsome men before many times but this was the first time she felt like a real lady. The Don spoke with her about horses and philosophy as they danced and Orchid knew that this could be the one. There was something about this man's eyes: they looked at every detail in the room without ever leaving her face. This man did not just see a Lady at a ball. He saw Orchid Michelle Ramante for who she was. After only a few hours of dancing, Orchid felt like she really knew this man.

After the dancing and dinners were through, the men went to the den to enjoy their cigars and talk politics while the ladies went into the parlor to relax. Orchid quickly led Jasmine and Iris onto one side of the room where she could tell them about Don Jose. She began at the very second they were introduced and left out no detail after that. She told them about their conversations and about how alike they were. She practically day dreamed through the rest of the party.

When the Duke and his daughter returned to their chambers, Orchid still could not shake the image of Don Jose from her mind. After Orchid got back from "memory lane", she quickly went to her writing desk and began to compose a letter to Don Jose. Who would not find it tempting to write when they had just witnessed Perfection with the face of the most handsome man a lady could imagine. The Don was perfect: He was handsome and kind – two things that Orchid insisted upon. The Don was a Spanish noble with a title greater than that of the Duke – the title allowed Orchid's father to keep his only rule for her marriage. The perfection of it all made her freeze. She suddenly stopped and thought to herself: When does anything turn out this perfect? Why is this foreign noble even interested in me? Why is he still single? Surely someone like him could marry any woman he chose. Was this a trick? Orchid stopped writing her letter and swiftly went to bed.

The next morning, Orchid was shocked to find a letter for her in her father's box. She was overjoyed to find that it was from the Don. Orchid read through the letter quickly. Like normal, he spent the first part complementing her. She was relieved to see that it was not her looks or posture he noticed but her "sweet voice and lovely dancing." She had to get Jasmine and Iris and tell them about her letter. Hopefully they would be able to leave her alone long enough to finish the letter she had started last night.

Orchid quickly told both Iris and Jasmine about the letter that she had received. Her senses cried to her. She wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and finish a letter in reply. Iris turned to Orchid and gave a bit of a shy (but wicked) smile. The smile spread over both her and Jasmine's lips. Orchid could tell they were laughing with her in joy but she tried to ignore them and finish her story. "I opened his letter – more out of curiosity than anything else and was so happy that I laughed out loud several times before I had gotten through the first paragraph. Usually the letters make the suitors sound queer and acquired but the Don did it again. I saw it – perfect-ness! I keep getting excited only to remind myself that none of it can be real: this has to be the work of my father or uncle. They both want to gain favor at court."

Iris reached over and playfully rubbed the blond girl's arm. "You are too cenacle!" She chided. "Maybe it is fate that let you find each other! The court doesn't control everything"

"You and Jasmine have seen how medalling the court can be." Iris's eyes glazed over has she thought about her past "engagements". According to Jasmine's father, her life was to be given for family honor. If the family needed a higher place at court, her life would be used to bargain that honor at court. "I am afraid to get my hopes up," explained Orchid to her saddened friends. The three of them looked down, knowing that their lives were never (and never would be) in their hands.

Water in Jose's Brightness

Kyle waited until Briane was asleep and then walked out, closing the door softly behind him. He shivered in the night air and quickly walked into a back ally where Jose waited. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Kyle apologized as he shivered in his light jacket.

"You weren't followed were you?"

Kyle shook his head as Jose nodded with approval. "You know what has to be done." Jose motioned to a left where shadows morphed and shifted. Even in the light the object never came into view. "This is really just as a check point more than a briefing or meeting." The shadow continued to move closer in a threatening sway and brush of feet and arms.

Kyle had to resist the urge to run away from the hulking mass that got closer and closer. "Please," Kyle began as his eyes met Jose's. "Is this really necessary?"

"You knew what the deal was when you signed on."

The giant shadow moved closer and closer. Kyle tried to fight natural instinct but he could not resist when the monster lunged at him. Self preservation took over his will power and Kyle ran and ran. He had some sense left within him: He ran away from his home: Leading the monster away from his son.

Part of Kyle's mind said, Now's your chance! Get out of this! The other part said, Just stand and let this happen. You agreed to it and it is your own fault. Both sides told him to keep Briane out of this… He was only a child and he didn't need to deal with strange men like Jose! Parental instinct yelled and screamed every time he had to meet Jose when Briane was present.

He knew that Briane was afraid of Jose and he understood why he was swinish. There was something selfish about Jose. The man had neither family nor neighbors. Kyle had never met any of his business friends – only associates. There is something dangerous about a man who has nothing to loose.

Lies and Confusion

The next morning Orchid went to her father's box has quickly as she could. Don Jose had promised he would write her and she couldn't wait to see! She tried to warn herself that the court was still involved in these types of things. She shouldn't get her hopes up. Her father could be telling Jose what to say to impress her.

Then again, he never did anything like that before – even with those annoying men from the western states. They may have had power but they had no manners! She was shocked when she found a letter from the rued Frenchmen as she riled through the notes looking for something from the Don.

"I thought he would have gotten that I'm not falling for his game by now," Orchid mumbled in a frustrated voice. She quickly scratched out a blunt reply, trying to make her hand writing as bad as possible. She never finished reading the message he had written to her but that hardly mattered. She had been optimistic when the suitors first appeared – she read each letter that was sent to her in the beginning but quickly found that all the letters were the same.

She stopped reading them after about a year – why did she suddenly feel guilty about it now? She looked down at the letter in her hand and went over the words she had written in her head. Am I being too hard on him? She asked herself… Maybe it was time to be serious again. After all, if she didn't choose someone soon, her father would pick someone. She loved her father but lately it seemed like he knew nothing about her and she knew nothing about him. She couldn't imagine living with any man he would choose.

She quickly handed the letter to a footman to have it sent and walked into the courtyard before she could change her mind. She walked straight towards the garden – surely that would calm her. Looking at the daisy and the roses did help to brighten her mood but all the calming work they had done did not prepare her for her afternoon visitor: the rood Frenchmen, the author of the letter she had rejected.

He stood before her on the green with a servant at his side. "My Lade Orchid," began the servant cordially, "the Barron of LeMion is here to have tea with you." The servant quickly left to fetch the cart and biscuits, leaving the Barron and Orchid alone.

"I ahh… hope the weather finds you well," the Barron said lamely as he smiled at Orchid. Orchid smiled back and politely said, "And you also…" An acquired pause passed between them before Orchid continue, "Everyone in the house is doing quite well. The servants are all busy of course. Preparing for the ball and all. I hope that everything is going as fine in your own?"

"Yes! Yes. Everyone is doing quite well." Again he paused as if searching for words. She offered him a cup of when the cart came. He took a sip of the tea and thanked her before he continued: "I was hoping that you would honor me at the ball tonight and allow me the first dance." He stopped as if he were out of breath and looked up at her with strangely confidant eyes. She wanted to slap the look off his face. He was much too cocky – he had lost his breath so quickly but he made it sound like he had offered her the world.

"I apologize but I cannot. I have already promised my father the first dance."

"Than perhaps you would allow me the last?" He looked so saddened that Orchid had to give in. She nodded and smiled, silently yelling at herself for agreeing at all. She walked with the Barron to the door and watched him go.

"Did that gentleman invite himself to tea?" Asked the butler… Orchid silently nodded in answer. That annoying man could be so rood! Why did she agree to dance with him?

At the ball that night, Orchid tried to stay close to Jasmine and Iris. She wanted the Barron to simply forget that she had given him a dance. Still, when he came in, the fist thing he did was walk up to her.

"Good evening, Lady Orchid."

Orchid smiled and returned his greeting. Iris and Jasmine stayed beside Orchid until the music began to play. Orchid danced with her father as she said she would. She was afraid that no other suitors would come and that she would be forced to dance with the Barron for the rest of the night. Thankfully, the Don showed up and held her tightly as they danced. She tried to hide her disappointment when the Barron cut in for his one dance.

Gleason in the River Bed

The shadow was on the ground and Kyle was sprinting in the opposite direction.

"You can't hide," roared a voice that Kyle didn't recognize but knew must belong to the monster. The intensity of the call only made Kyle ran harder. He knew that the thing was right to take him but he also knew that he couldn't give up for his son. Briane was still too young to be alone. He was terrified of the dark alleyways (a fear that his father had ensued in him to keep him away from men like Jose) and he was not strong enough to work in the shops.

Kyle remembered his first job. The foreman told him to lift heavy sacks of sand and carry them to the machines on the second level. The first half of the day was not very hard… Sure, the sacks were heavy but no one really noticed until the second part of the day. Everyone felt the weight of the sacks then. The foremen were reminding everyone that today's quota was not yet matched. If three days passed without a change in production, the salary would have to take the loss in profit. People scrambled here and there to get the last of the work done. Small and hunched over boys – like Kyle were nearly trampled in the mass chaos and confusion. No one seemed to look down! Everyday was terrifying. He got the job when he was only 13 but he was expected to do the work of a full-grown man.

Kyle knew that his son could do the work but he did not want his son to have to do the work. He wanted to give Briane a childhood. Kyle was proud to say that he had worked so that Briane would not only be able to go to school and to play but so that he could also get a real job. Kyle thought of his son in a deskman's outfit and with food on his table. This thought brought peace in Kyle's heart and allowed him to stand still while the shadow monster got closer and closer… and eventually took Kyle.

Kyle knew that Jose would see to it that Briane got the money that was due to him. After all, the Don was said to be a friend of the people. France needed a friend and Kyle knew that they could not be found in court. The powered wigs in the halls of government wanted nothing but more power for themselves. They were a selfish bunch! No one there cared about the peasants or their troubles! Soon… very soon… the idiots in Louis' court would see that power did not come from money, land, or titles… It came in numbers and the people had numbers on their side. Even as the monster ate him, Kyle was sure of victory and confidant that his son would know a better world.

Don Jose smiled and knew he had made the right choice in asking Kyle to do this task. The man trusted him with everything. As soon as the Don swore that Kyle's son would be saved from the violence of revolution and the want of poverty, Kyle was willing to do anything. The Don wasn't really sure he liked Kyle but he was a man of his word, so he would keep the boy, Briane safe. It seemed like a small sacrifice to make for such triumph!

Jose saw horror before him but it only made him think of the wonder of the horror that would come to the nobles and the fool king. Everything is going according to plan. There are only a few steps left before Louis will fall to his knees and the court to chaos.

The moment the monster's jaws closed in around Kyle, Jose knew that France, and all the fine country had to offer, would soon be his! Jose looked up at the picture he was order to hang of the king.

Soon, Louis. Soon…

The Jewel in the Sun

A dark-eyed, twenty-something year-old man stood in front of the Inn's sign. It was raining that day and the heat radiating from inside the warm kitchens of the establishment were calling to the man. He really did want to go in (as would any sane human being in such weather), but his associate had asked the man to wait for him in front of the sign, not inside of the building. The cloak was growing heavy with water but the man continued to wait in the rain. This meeting may seem ordinary but it was far from it!

People in the street seemed to sense his anxiety and would occasionally slow in their work to take a look at him. He was always told that he looked young for his age. Some people take that as a complement but he did not. He always liked to think that his lean, toned body and thin lips made him look more mature and dignified. His eyes were the only body part that gave away his true age. A worried frown creased his face. He had been watching for the businessman for some hours now and was beginning to think that they had been trying to trick him.

Would any of them take him seriously? "I should have brought the letters he sent with me," he chided himself. It would have been nice to double-check the address without having to walk halfway across town! He needed these people to take him seriously – He knew that the threats the "associates" had given him were dead serious and he had hoped to make the plain a little more even. It sounded so simple: go wait for the associate at an inn and give his message to Louis. He could be a patriot and help the commoners at the same time by serving as a go-between. In truth, the young man didn't really believe that the king truly wanted to help the commoners but this was his chance to give a jester and hopefully stop the impending war.

The king had written proclamations as letters to the people of course but they could not serve in place of real contact. Facial expressions and body language said feelings more than words. Those feelings usually didn't come across in the wordy and formal proclamations. The people didn't really know their king and they were convinced that he did not really know them. The wet man hated to admit it but he feared that the common people were right about their ruler: He couldn't even imagine what it was like to be them!

Part of the blame had to be placed on the proclamations. No matter how good a person wrote he knew that a real friendship could not be started until the two corresponding parties met face-to-face. Ask anyone who has been separated from a lover. The letters they write bring comfort but it can only go so far! Seeing the lover once again brings happiness so profound that even the best of poets cannot describe it accurately. The only way to show the people of France that their king truly cared about them would be to appear before them.

"I'll arrange that meeting after this one," the man said through chattering teeth. He knew that it was rude to talk to yourself but no one really seemed to be listening. He continued to mutter about cold and rain and paper work when he saw a face that he recognized.

It was an old face with a bald head. He wore rags and his hands were covered in dirt – this was the associate who had come to him last night. Anxiety and gratification washed over the wet man. Soon, he would be able to go into the Inn and warm himself by the fire. He was gratified that relief from the damp cold was approaching fast. Still, the man also knew that the businessman would want more than this… He was anxious to hear his next task. These thoughts mixed with others of the same cloudy nature as the two of them entered the Inn.

They took their seats at a small both in the far corner (as far from the bar as they could get) to ovoid noisy ears listening in on their conversation. The Inn as dimly lit but the table itself held a single candle, which provided a large amount of light. The bald man kept his head down and his companion found it hard to see his face but he did not really care. The man was just happy to be out of the rain.

The bald man went to get drinks while the wet man removed his cloak. When the man got back to the table his associate had already returned and a frothy mug sat by his seat. "I take it you know why I called you here today?" The bald man asked a question but he said it like a statement.

He was hesitant about answering the question. Did he know why he was called? Well, he thought he knew but he prayed that he was wrong! Luckily, Baldy didn't wait for the man to answer. He just kept going through his conversation. Every few sentences or so, he would stop and look left and right just to make sure that no one had noticed anything amiss.

"Our friend would be grateful for any information you can provide."

Finally, the man knew that he had to answer. "The only information I can give is old information. The people are unhappy and are getting impatient with waiting. They hear the promise that help is coming and that others suffer as well but they do not see the evidence… I can only say that it is time to show them the proof that they have been waiting for."

Baldy stood onto his feet quickly. "You are not in a position to suggest anything, you cow!" His face was red and his eyes looked like they were about to pop but he quickly quieted down and took his seat when he saw that the entire room had turned to them. So much for keeping a low profile and blinding in. This man had to be a noble: no one else would have so little self-control. The upper class was used to doing what they wanted when they wanted without having to deal with any repercussions. Even after making this grievous mistake, Baldy still thought he was in charge and acted like it! He jerked his baldhead towards the door. "Let's move."

The man shrugged his shoulders and went to grab his still-dripping cloak from the entrance. "I wasn't trying to say that I knew more than you people. I only meant that ideas were all I had to offer. No real new information."

Baldy breathed out slowly as if to steady himself. "I am paying you to get information. Get that information or find a new job." The man stared at baldy as he turned to leave.

"If you could find someone to do this job as well as me, you would have already hired him. You need my services worse than I need your money." Baldy paused in his departure for a time but he never turned around. The five-second pause was the only acknowledgement the wet man received. Baldy continued walking and called to his carriage.

Great, thought the man, I'm leaving this party more confused than I was when I came.

The man turned to walk away himself when Baldy called back to him, "I expect a better report next week, Bartholomew. Meet me here next week. There will be more information for you in the box."

Bartholomew just smiled and walked on through the rain.

Darkness Blocks the Light

Kyle felt nothing…numbness covered every inch of his body from the center to each end. Time seemed to exist in spirits and not continuous strands. No thoughts had enough real time to form even though the seconds passed slowly. Kyle could not tell a simple passerby who he was or where he lived – he could not say the year!

Nothing seemed to exist except this very second. There is no past and the future will be short. The thing inside of Kyle told him this and he believed it. The thing spoke with such conviction that any hearer would be forced to agree. Kyle fought the thing at first because he thought he had to… then he found that it was futile. Part of his mind told him not to give up and to keep fighting but his heart told him to let go.

Kyle knew that there was a reason that he had allowed the monster to take him but he could not honestly tell a person what that reason was. Things seemed to fall from his mind. That's because it is so light, he reminded himself. Everything seemed to make since if he just thought about it long enough – but then the world moved so quickly that nothing seemed to really last.

Kyle's head seemed to spin and it took him a while to figure out that he was actually moving…or the monster was moving! His mind started to panic…

He could not control his own body anymore! Kyle's imagination formed images of his neighbors' destroyed homes. The monster was in control now. Jose had sworn that he could keep the creature in-check but that was little comfort to Kyle – he didn't trust Jose as far as he could throw him! The man was ruthless and the blood of innocents would not stop him! Kyle had agreed to take part in this crazy scheme for two reasons:

He never thought their plot would actually work. Kyle figured that after a few months of trying without success would make the Don give up his conspiracy. Kyle would have fled town with his earnings and his son. They would have been able to start a new life as rich men.

Kyle thought that being on the Don's side would allow him to leave the fight uncivil. He knew that the Don was obsessed and that if the plot COULD work, Jose would make it work. He thought that his friends and family (particularly his son) would remain safe because he was Jose's weapon. He thought he could just avoid the areas where they worked but it was not the case.

Kyle could not even control his own body!

He tried again to stop the rhythmic movement of his feet but the harder to try to stop the faster his feet went. Kyle let out an inward shout. His mind streamed to let the sound out but the only answer was a mocking laugh from the monster. You agreed to this to help people. The monster could read his mind even though they did not share a mind. After our goal is met and the arena is filled, your son will die, the monster promised Kyle with a hissy laugh. His blood will be the first to hit the sandy floor. Blackness returned and Kyle welcomed the escape from reality.

Plots of Light

The old nobleman watched from the shadows as Bartholomew ran in the rain. He smiled to himself. The bald man was right, the boy would work perfectly – the way he walked and talked didn't give him away! This boy could blend into the court quickly (quicker than the other "potentials" anyway). He would fit the job nicely…

Bartholomew could not shake the feeling… that feeling he always got when someone was staring at him. A spot burned as hot as flame on the back of his head. He turned slowly, hoping he would find no one but knowing that they would be there even if the light did not reveal it.

He was surprised to see that a man in a black over-coat standing behind him. "Don't be alarmed Misoure, but you are heading towards a bad part of town – I can see that you are new to the town and I would like to help you by offering my services as a guide. The fee I charge is only a small one for time. You will not find a better deal in all of Paris," the man tried to continue, hoping that he would make a sale but Bartholomew had heard all of this before.

Bartholomew continued on his way until he came to a café. A group of ten men sat around a table that was designed for no more than five people. They all spoke in low, husky voices and looked wildly about the room as their lips moved in synchronization with their drumming fingers – all of them were speaking as if they thought the world would end at any moment. Each men spoke at the same time and at a speed which would make the waiter think that they had each had one too many cappuccinos. Bartholomew smiled at the frowning waiter who was writing down his order for three more creamed coffees.

"Greg, my boy! How good of you to finally join us," joked Jonathan, a friend of Bartholomew's from college? Both of their parents had insisted that they get a good education. Both young men tried to get along at the school but when they saw that most students bribed the teachers, they knew it was not the place for them.

The young men were still in their teens and the streets of Paris were not a safe place. Their parents believed that school was the only safe place for them – even the farms on the outskirts of the city were full of ruffians. Bartholomew's mother wrote to him constantly, begging him to come "home". He always explained that his work in the city was important: He told her that he was helping people – still, in his mother's eyes, it was he who needed help. There was no way to show his family that the city was a good place. So, eventually Bartholomew stopped writing letters and simply focused on the work at hand – equal rights for all and a tax deduction for the peasants.

"A letter came for you this morning. It was from that creepy man again. I thought you said that you were meeting hi this morning?" Jonathan told Bart as he handed him an envelope with his name sprawled on it in a spidery hand.

"I saw him last night…He didn't really tell me anything though." Bartholomew breathed a sigh and shook his head. "I guess they still don't trust us."

Jonathan motioned to the letter and gave him the "do you really think so" look. He opened the letter and tried to read it, groaning inside. The spidery writing was nearly illegible. Why had the man not just said anything at their meeting? Didn't he know that letters could be traced! He thought about just burning the letter and ignoring the ignorant man. He was obviously an amateur to espionage and knew nothing about the revolution. Could this man really care about the peasants? There was only one way to find out – he could always burn it after reading.

He liked to think that both he and the old man shared the same goals. Still, each day seemed to show a new side to his new friend. Were they even on the same side anymore? This man seemed to be a man who needed to keep mystery in his life… But the resistance didn't need mystery. They needed someone who could keep a secret. Mystery was not the same as a secret and Bartholomew knew it. He was about to dumb the letter when he saw the seal. His hands held the envelope and hovered over the insignia without moving a muscle for several seconds until he knew: It's worth the headache. And tour the letter open.

Friends in War

Jose watched Kyle's body bend and creak (the monster was taking control). The Spanish pirates were offering him more money than he could ever reserve in France or in Spain. They offered something better than money – they were offering power! Power that did not come from titles and friends in high places. This power was real magic in its rawest form – magic from the New World.

The Aztecs and Mayan holy men knew things that Popes seemed to ignore even with their declining influence. The religious men of Europe said that the Indians were all Pagan and evil (Jose didn't care if his new power came from the devil – he just wanted to make sure that he had it). The buccaneers had given him what they thought were worthless rocks that the Indians seemed to think were gods. The truth was that the rocks were books. They each had scripture and spells inscribed within them – all you had to do was know where to look. Those little spirals on the bottom were not little designs or marks that erosions made: they were words.

Jose smiled to himself thinking about the deal he had made with the captain only a few days ago. The man was not really a captain of course (he was barely a level above a common fisherman). Sure, he owned a boat but the thing was falling apart. The captain and his crew were convinced that "the old girl" had at least six more trips still in her. Traveling in that ship was idiocy… Still, that was not what made them fools. It is the fact that they give him the strongest spiritual power in the world that can buy him a castle for something as small as a little war. One of the biggest empires since Rome in exchange for one little war… He laughed once more.

He looked down the vast halls that he had been given by the king himself – yes, the fool was stupid enough to trust Jose and give him the rooms near to the royal chambers. His plan was going nicely – soon, he would be given the honor for having the rooms next to the king's very rooms. All he had to do was marry a high-standing French girl at court. Orchid fit the bill quite nicely. Her family had high standing (even her uncle who refused to marry was considered a genius and a close advisor) and she was quiet pretty in a simple kind of way. She would suit his needs and make a fine wife of noble birth.

Too Much Water

"How is the 'secret admireror' today?" Asked Iris with another mischievous smile. Iris and Jasmine had been calling Jose Orchid's secret admirorer for some time. When she and Jose had first started writing to each other, Orchid had tried not to let her two noisy friends find out. The secret did not last long! Orchid glared and Iris as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. Orchid was normally an early riser. Today was different. Orchid simply mumbled that it was too early for games. "When did he write you back?" Iris asked, coming right to the point. "Is he going to propose?" She smiled in triumph as Orchid nodded without smiling.

"Of course he is going to propose. He will ask my father as soon as he can."

"What's wrong with that? You will marry a handsome, rich foreigner and live in a mansion," Jasmine reminded Orchid.

"He is asking my father but not me! Shouldn't I get a say in how I spend the rest of my life?"

"Stop all those morbid thoughts of yours and look at the fantasy! This could be the best thing that has ever happened to you."

Orchid knew that her friends were right. She had to look at the bright side of things. She would have to remind herself. The palace buzzed to life as the servants of Versailles ran to support the life in the vast building that housed the "best and most valiant" of France.

A maid came in carrying several trays. No one could deny that the servants here were obedient but they seemed fake to Orchid: the maids smiled too much and the butlers spoke too little. She wanted nothing more than to return to the house where she grew up. Her mother taught her to be a lady in a small house, miles from the big city. The servants spoke to her there and they only smiled when they were happy. Maybe Orchid's friends were right: Only a madman wouldn't take any chance they had to have a real life again – a life away from here. Orchid remembered Iris' words as she day-dreamed while the maid poured her more coffee.

Orchid put all her concentration into not thinking any negative thoughts about the man who would surely ask for her hand. Don Jose was not a bad man but Orchid could not believe that he truly cared for her – he only wanted her for her father… Still, how bad could it be?

The Shinning Girl

In the small flat above the street, Braine opened his eyes and saw the sun shining in the high window. How late is it, he wondered? He walked down the thin hall and stepped into the kitchen. He was expecting to see his father there, lost in the morning's reports that Jose had sent from work. Usually, the men met at night and read their secrets in the day-light. Briane liked secrets when he was in on them – he was good at keeping secrets but it father insisted that "this was special". The receptionist squinted his eyes as if he was straining to see if the boy was telling the truth. The tall man turned his back on Briane and walked towards the back door.

"Ah… Sir?"

Jose stepped out of the back door that led to the office and smiled a fake smile as his eyes moved towards Braine and his father. "It's nice to see you two again but this is no place for children." Jose waved his hand at Briane and glanced from Kyle to the security guard.

"My father is sick," Briane tried to explain quickly before the guard could stop him. He looked back at Kyle with eyes that shouted for an appeal. "See. Tell him."

Jose laughed when he saw the boy's distress. "Your father is not sick. He is only tired. I am afraid that we all had a late meeting last night." Jose turned to the guard and continued. "Take him home so that he can get some rest." The guard put his arm around Kyle's shoulders and led him away. Little Briane quickly followed, not wanting to be separated from his father.

Thoughts raced through the boy's head. Why did he even think that Jose would help him? Who else could? This whole thing had to be Jose's doing… Briane remembered the late nights alone wondering what daring secret the men were sharing only to find his father bleeding on the floor the next morning. Something terrible was happening and Jose was the cause of it all. Briane had known that this would happen from the beginning. There was only one important question that Briane could not answer: Who could stop what Jose had begun?

The guard walked Kyle to the one bed in the house and left. Briane looked at the lying form of his father. The thing looked like his father but Briane could tell that something was wrong inside – the eyes stared blankly, unblinking at Briane. The greenness of gave off an eurodesent glow. Father's eyes are blue! Braine remembered with a shock and ran from his home.

As Briane and his father were walking out, Orchid's father and uncle were walking in.

"I trust that you will be at Louis' Ball tomorrow?"

"Only is Miss Orchid is there," Jose assured them. "For a ball is not a Ball without her presence."

The Next River

Bartholomew repeated the letter's message over and over again in his head, just to make sure he was not forgetting a single fact – even little things could end up being important when life was lived by the throat day to day. The mysterious "friend" who kept promising to help was only making things more frustrating. If the answer was so close why couldn't the man just say it! Bartholomew decided then and there that he would tell the man to explain himself or he would have to find a new partner. He ended up not having to tell the man anything…

The streets were getting more and more empty. A few peasants walked here and there but the majority of the ramble was either in a saloon, indoors basement or in jail. Bartholomew saw the occasional smiling face or two but most people in this part of town were foreign to him. A cloaked man stood in plain sight and Bartholomew knew that this was the man he had been looking for. He was out in the open, no longer bothering to cower behind a shadow or two but still too cautious to show his face. "Follow me," the man said as he stepped into a nearby coach.

The coach was made of rich mahogany wood with intricate carvings going down the side. It looked like something only the richest men in France could afford. Bartholomew only got a short glimpse of the interior of the coach but he saw enough to know that the seats were made out of real silk. Bart felt a dread in his gut. This man could not have owned such nice things. He must have stolen it. Bartholomew backed away from the coach believing it to be a trap to frame him. He stopped instantly when the cloaked man suddenly pulled out a gun. "I am not asking," he ordered Bart.

Having no other option, Bartholomew headed for the carriage. His foot was about to touch the step to the seat but at the last second, he bolted down the street. The cloaked man made a quick motion with his gloved hand to alert five or so men down the corner. They stepped out of the ally and closed in on Bart. Each man was covered in muscles and tattoos. Bartholomew stepped back and braced himself. His eyes flew from left to right, praying for a way out. Suddenly, his world went black…

Bart woke to the movement of a carriage and the scrape of hoof against earth. Although Bart had only just awakened, his eyes hurt from exhaustion. The down feathers that were stuffed into the seats would have lulled him to sleep if he were not so aware of the gun pointed at him. He tried looking out the window, hoping that he could recognize where he was or where the carriage was headed.

The hillside was covered in lush bushes and trees – this could not be in Paris! Paris was a bustling city full of buildings. Bartholomew could not distinguish any real sign of France's country life out of the trees either. Farmland was flat and clear – ready for crops. The hillside was much too rugged and overgrown. These woods seemed to be as far away from civilization as the cloaked man could get. He must need to do what had to be done away from prying eyes!

After what felt like an eternity of silent riding, Bartholomew finally poked his head out of the window and looked for the cloaked man. Just as Bart thought, he was driving the carriage. The man saw that Bart was up and motioned for the young man to join him in the front. Bart did and asked quietly, "Are you going to kill me?" The man laughed a hearty laugh from deep within his throat.

"If I wanted to kill you I would not have dragged you into the coach. It would be easier just to kill you in the street."

"What do you want with me then?" The cloaked man opened his mouth just quickly shut it again and was lapsed into silence. Bartholomew felt a rising lump in his stomach. He knew that he should be relieved that his life was not in danger but he could not help but feel anxiety – everything was so uncertain!

A speck appeared on the horizon of the road ahead: Two pillars of gate with guards beside them. "Get into the back," ordered the cloaked man. Bart obeyed and climbed back down to his seat through the top. Bart felt more than saw the guard's eyes on him even though he had disappeared into the coach. What could they be suspicious of? Thought Bartholomew as he sunk deeper into the seat. There were so many questions running through his head and so few had answers. Bartholomew remembered the uncertainty of his destination – would it be better to run?

This could be the cloaked man that had promised the poor so much hope. This could be the plan he kept talking about… Still, Bartholomew knew that whoever was in charge did not trust him. If they did, he would not be riding in a carriage with a lump on his head. He would have been formally and politely invited to come. This was all going wrong. Running might be the best answer.

Once the guards were out of sight, Bartholomew opened up the door. He started to climb out when he saw it – the destination! It was a large mansion, not quite big enough to be a castle but very close to one in size and grander. The home had three or four stories that were surrounded by marble walls. Bartholomew was in awe – he just stood there with half of him out of the open door and half of him still within the coach. He didn't notice that the coach had stopped until he heard the cloaked man turn the key in the door. "Glad to see you are ready," the cloaked man said this with a smile in his voice even though there was none on his face. "Follow me… they are waiting for you."

"Who?" Bartholomew had so many questions that needed answers. He had tried to be patient and thoughtful while he was awake on the carriage ride but the anxiety of the moment made the need for answers a demanding presence. Bart could not wait by patiently any longer. "What is all this about? An army of men come into the middle of Paris to bring me to a mansion in the middle of no-where… Action like that demands some kind of explanation!"

Bartholomew was about to continue on his rave but the cloaked man grappled him by the shirt and made him stop short.

"You seem to think that the people here owe you something. They don't owe you squat. If anything, you owe them!" The man took a steadying breath. "Now, if he wants to play at being mysterious, let him. He is just up those steps and he will answer all of your numerous questions in time."

Bart hated having to wait but he had little choice. He took a deep, claming breath and nodded his head as he followed the cloaked man. The man stopped after they had traveled through a large entryway. The floors were made of pink marble tiles and covered in thick Persian rugs. The walls were painted with bold colors (each wall was a different color) and large murals and paintings. Bart was surprised that none of the paintings had scenery in them – they were all portraits of unhappy people with a dark background.

"Walk up those stairs to the second floor. Turn left and walk through the third door on your right. The master is expecting you," the man explained to Bart in a slow, steady voice.

Bart simply nodded and started to make his way up the steep steps. Hope surged through him. Could this be the mysterious man who swore that he could help their cause? With all this luxury just lying around the man could certainly afford to help people. Bart turned left at the top of the stairs and immediately noticed the difference in decorations between the two floors. The bottom floor was covered in the most expensive things and the newest trends. This second floor looked more like a lodge: the floors were made of wood and the walls were covered with displays cases showing everything from rare books to dime-store nick nacks. This man looked rich but he may be eccentric enough to be on their side any way!

He opened the door and was surprised to see five faces starring back at him. "Oh, wonderful!" said a cracking voice from the back of the room. "Everyone this is the boy I was telling you about. Meet Bartholomew Luce!"

"Oh yes! He will do quite nicely!" Agreed one man.

"He looks young… Just the type of person who will catch attention."

The men in the room went on like this for some time before they noticed Bartholomew's confused look. "Have you not told him?" the tallest man asked the man in the back.

"It has not been safe to… I suppose that now is the time. You'll excuse us of course." The other four men stood up and left the room, each congratulating Bart on his way out of the room. Now it was just Bart and the old man with no hair who stood in back.

"I am sure you have many questions." Bart nodded to say that he did and was about to open his mouth and ask the multitudes of questions that had been spinning around in his head for hours when the bald man held up his hand and continued in his speech. "Instead of asking everything at once let me try to answer several… Let me begin by telling you a story.

"You know about Louis and about the peasants – Oh yes, I have been reading your pamphlets! You have some interesting ideas and a good voice; especially for an uneducated man." Bartholomew was about to correct the man but he closed his mouth, thinking that it may be best to let the old man finish.

"Still, even with all of these things your ideas and your dreams have not become realities. You are going to need more than pamphlets and hope to begin this radical social change and even more than that to keep it going. You need money – you need to get those with money to hear what you say – how can they agree with you if they do not hear?"

"I doubt nobles will want to help the poor even if they heard," Bart had thought about that too: If he had money, people would listen but not the right people. Mobs of peasants heard him lecture but still, nothing had changed. They needed an influential person to take requests to the king and the court.

"The nobles would help if the king told them to help." The bald man winked at him before continuing. "Louis can make them do anything – all you have to do is convince the king that your cause is right. You've already convinced mobs of people. How hard can it be to convince one more person?"

"Why can't you talk to the king? You are already a member of the court and in high standing."

"I am afraid that I have gained many enemies in court… They have spread rumors about me. Luckily, the king trusts me enough not to have me arrested or charged. Still, he does not trust me. Having me show him your pamphlet will only delay things further."

"How do we do this then?"

"I will tell the court that you are my nephew from Italy – my three sisters married Italians. The court will believe me."

"You just announce that I am your nephew and they will let me in, just like that?" Bartholomew knew that it couldn't be that easy. There was something that the man was not telling him – there was always something important missing when members of court were telling a story. Bart had been getting letters from "the master" long enough to know that this man was worse than even the others at Versailles when it came to lying.

"Well, getting in will be easy but staying in will be the hard part. They will expect you to prove that you are a gentleman of high standing. Luckily, none of them has been to Italy in years. If you mess up we can explain that it is an Italian custom…" The man's voice faded away lamely. "We will teach you what we can of course!"

Bartholomew stood still for several minutes, taking all of this in. "How long do I have?"

"Two weeks should be enough to teach you the basics. Like I said, we can hide behind Italian customs."

Bartholomew breathed a sigh of frustration – this was not going to be easy!

The Meeting of Sun and Water

"I usually don't have the courage that most men deem attractive in a lady," Orchid told her father in a quiet voice.

"Why do you let these young men bother you so? Let me worry about the courting. I will have enough courage for both of us."

Orchid walked into the party and approached a group of nobles who were around her own age. She still can't really say why she went up to them. It was more out of curiosity than anything else – it certainly was not courage or any false thing like that. Four men and several women stood around a tall man with dark hair and intelligent eyes. He was speaking to everyone and no one. He could be speaking to one person or to a group of hundreds and everyone would be transfixed on him either way!

His good English and Italian accent made his voice irresistible. Orchid found herself laughing out loud several times before she had gotten through even one hour with him. Orchid is not normally given to girlish urges but this young man was different. She could see herself happy with him – she wanted him to go to her father and ask for her hand this minute even though she had not spoken a word to him. He seemed to be everything she wanted and everything her family needed. He was perfect! He was kind and funny but he also had a serious side. He talked about the blight of the poor and Orchid found herself agreeing that something had to be done.

The young noblemen spoke with passion and reverence. Orchid wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and tell him that she agreed with every word he had said. She wanted to talk to him and to tell him all that she had hidden from everyone else. Life at court forces people to live in fear and secrecy but Orchid knew that there didn't have to be any secrets from him – she could trust this man with her life!

At that instant, Orchid was actually able to hear the thoughts in her own head: she wanted to give this young nobleman – a man she didn't know everything. Oh, my! She thought to herself in near horror. Why was it that he could control her like that? He must be a very good speaker indeed! Orchid felt herself blush as she turned to the Lady next to her, the wife of Mayor de Ruxe, and asked in a shy voice, "Do you know the name of that young man?"

"Why yes," the woman began, "that is the nephew of Count De Cane. He is visiting from Italy."

Orchid stared at the man longingly… there was something about him that beckoned her. Something that asked her what she thought was voluble and worthwhile and told her that he thought she was the most perfect female in the room at the same time. All the energy in the room seemed to focus on him and he seemed to focus it back to her. He had everything and he was willing to give everything… She could not help but walk towards him.

Three gray nobles watched Orchid migrate the room with silent smiles of triumph covering their faces. They had successfully turned Bart into a noble. The transformation had not been an easy one for either party…

His bald head was covered in sweat and his voice shook with anger as he turned to the young man beside side him and fought not to shout the words that were streaming from his mouth: "Not like that! This is not a barn raising or a pub gathering. Try again…"

Bart breathed slowly – he knew that he had to keep his wits about him. The old man explained the rules of the court and although parts were fatten the setting of many an assembly, the assembly was never enjoyable or relaxed. One wrong word could allow your head to fall to the guillotine. One wrong phrase and the "great revolution for rights" would be over. All of the years Bartholomew and his friends had worked would be for nothing. All the sacrifices that Bartholomew's parents and family had made would have been wasted…

This was something Bartholomew had to do right – even with the old nut standing next to him and yelling rubbish into his ear! The man had a motive of his own that Bart was not sure understood but as long as the man was fighting for the same ends as the good of the people of France, Bart would not question the reasons. He was just glad that he and the old men were on the same side – at least for now.

As much as Bart hated the Nobles, he also knew that he owned them a huge dept. If they had not offered to help him, Bart would be in the café planning yet another semi-luticase revolution with his college friends. All of them (he and his friends) had the same value and ideals. They had the same goal and the same background – yes, they were destined to all have the same resources and the same plan. The nobles added so much to the discussion that real planning could and often did take place. Bart could not believe that the men who could only find one solution at a time last month were now on their way to deciphering thousands! Answers were in their grasp like never before.

None of the Nobles seemed to really too involved in the brain storming or teaching process with the other students (except to give money to the other fighters of course). The baldman's growing involvement in the lives of the students made Bart more and more suspicious of his teacher and the old man's friends. Bart had seen the evil of nobles and it was difficult for him to believe that they would help him or the peasants. They were selfish but the king was the father of the people of France. Once he heard of the evil he would come and save his children – as any father would!

Bart had done everything the man had told him – even the silly things the old man told him like not to hanger up his clothes. It had taken weeks and weeks to perfect the techniques that Bartholomew's "uncle" had taught him: How to speak and eat and move your hand, when to be introduced and how to start a proper conversation – and that was just the beginning. Now his mentors wanted him to get this girl away to win the king's favor.

It all sounded easy: talk smooth and get the girl. There was more to this court business than any of the peasants knew. It seemed easy – getting all you wanted because you were of high birth – the truth is so much darker than anyone who has not seen will believe. The nobles live with the same amount of fear as the peasants. The peasants and poor fear starvation and powerlessness with the same raving stern bluntness as the nobles fear dishonor and rumors. Court-life could get someone killed just like robbing can. Yet, both thieving and court games can also make any cautious man rich.

Greed was the draw of it – the count's seat at court would go to his only child – his daughter. Women could not attend to the business aspect of court, so the title and riches of the court entrée would go to the heiress' husband. Bartholomew's only job was to make sure that the seat didn't go to the Spanish Don. Who the girl did marry didn't really matter. It was who she DIDN'T that counted as far as Bart and his noble "friends" were concerned.

He saw the girl in question staring at him – he easily recognized her from the many paintings that the other nobles had shown him. She was wearing the latest silk fashions. Most of the boys at the college would have gone with her just by looks, before knowledge of her vast wealth even came up but looks and fashion alone are not enough in the French court. Only the most ruthless and cunning can survive here.

"Seniora," he greeted her with the Spanish accent he had perfected in the months of practice that had been allowed him. She curtsied him with her eyes downcast, as any modest woman would do. He was afraid she maybe more timid than he first thought but he was quickly relieved when she gripped the arm that he offered her.

"Is France always so beautiful this time of the year?" He asked her glancing into her eyes as she peered out the window and saw the gray, cloud-covered sky. "Once I am in your company the room, nay, the entire country-side seems to light up," he explained as her cheeks roughed darker. The girl glanced down.

"I fear we have not been properly introduced," she reminded him and Bart mentally kicked himself. The old man had reminded him during their practices several times.

"Why you are right, Seniora! I am merely a stranger in this land. I am the nephew of Count Mau. I have come to visit from Spain where I live with my family. And you, Beautiful Lady?"

"I am Orchid De Mously. My father is a member of King Louis' court like your uncle."

He was relieved that they were in a courtly room where dancing would not be respectable. Bart liked dancing normally, in jigs and county dances, but to waltz with a Lady with all these experienced nobles around… They would surely spot him as a fraud! Luckily, Orchid was content to just sit and talk with Bart. She described her life in France and her daily duties. He was surprised that they were similar to his own: going to cafes with friends, going to balls and dances, even visiting the poor! He was beginning to like this girl but then, she did the one thing he hoped she wouldn't:

"How does it compare to your life in Spain?"

Bart's mind went blank as his pulse quickened… Why hadn't the old man thought him anything about Spain? Could this be a set-up?

Bart quickly pushed the thoughts from his head and tried to concentrate. He went back to History Lectures. There had to be something he could piece an answer from! Useless memories of this war and that king came into his head. Bart shook his head as a voice came from behind him.

"Spain is nothing like France," interrupted a tall stranger. Bart's already thumping heart went into a panic. Now his chest left like it would explode from shock and nervousness. Orchid stood next to him and smiled at the stranger. "Excuse me, young Madmauselle. I believe we have not been properly introduced. I am King Charles' ambassador and will be representing him here." He smiled down at Orchid and then turned to Bart. "I am sure you have seen me at court," said the stranger to Bart.

"I regret to say that I was only at the King's court a short time. My uncle thought it urgent that I come with him in France." Bart glanced behind him in a mock show of privacy. "His health is fragile, you see."

The ambassador nodded as he asked, "What part of Spain are you from? I cannot place your accent."

"My family lives in the country by Madrid," Bart repeated the lie he was told. The ambassador nodded to Bart and continued on his way. Bart breathed a sigh of relief and the evening continued without event. He talked with Orchid for hours and then dinned with the other men to talk of politics away from the Ladies' delicate ears.

After the dinner was over and all parties met in the drawing room, Orchid set out looking for Bart. She found him in a small nook talking loudly to other men. "The peasants are in pain while we feast," she heard him say. He opened his mouth to continue but was quickly interrupted by several voices. A small chaos ensued as Orchid backed away and saw Bart practically pinned to the far wall. The bald noble stopped them all when he said in a sturdy, aged voice. "My nephew is very passionate. He is a student."

Everyone stopped, as if the statement explained everything. Bart was not longer pinned to a wall – in fact the entire room was moving freely once again. He saw that Orchid was smiling as she walked over to him. "You are a great speaker. I am sure that you will make a wonderful Politian and bring great things to Louis' court." He blushed but she continued anyway, moving so close to him that her mouth touched his ear. She spoke her next words in less than a whisper as if it were some ghastly secret. "I agree with every word you said." As soon as the words left her mouth she moved away and stepped into a coach her father had waiting.

Bart blew out the candles in the hall then and there and walked away. He wanted to throw water on all of them! This lady seemed to be worth all the jewels in France to the old man but he did not see what all the fuss was about. The girl said one thing and did another. She wasn't even worth a simple response. After this great fight where she runs and hides, she decides that the cause is with fighting for? Sure she was beautiful and rich but no one could know what the strange girl was thinking – what she did and what she thought were two totally different things. What happened to following your heart and acting on and for a cause greater than your own?

"Don't be too hard on the girl," the old man said in the same commanding voice. "She has been in Court a very long time…"

As he sat on his bed and prepared for sleep a glorious fantasy occurred to him: what if the old man's fantasy was real? What if all the feelings and speeches weren't lies? After about two seconds of wondering through his over-active imagination, Bart found himself turning to his writing desk with a quill in his hand. There were some things that Bart knew had to be done right – a letter of introduction and propriety was one of them. Frances, the old man had spent hours and hours teaching the proper way to write. Bartholomew had written more business letters than he could count in school and letters of Introduction were very similar in style to that of business.

What is marriage if not a contract? Bart asked himself as he smiled over the now covered letterhead. His smiling face turned to the door just as Frances appeared in the doorway…

"You embarrassed me in front of every noble in France. Do it again and I will have you shipped to Spain to work in those famous ships of theirs." Fire burned in his eyes as the old man walked into the room and stopped dead with mere inches between himself and his young ward.

"You weren't the only one in trouble out there. There was an ambassador from Spain and he nearly saw through my disguise! I know nothing of Spain and he has lived there his whole life. He will spot me as a fake very quickly!"

"We can fix little things like that quickly." Bart was about to retort that the problem was anything but little but Frances continued in his coarse. "How do things go with the girl? Did Don Jose confront you?"

"Could the new ambassador be in league with the others? The girl is taken with me… Even after the "incident" she had nothing but complements for me."

"Very good…"

The men turned in for the night without another word to each other. Braine wished that things would go so smoothly in his own home.

Lost in Less than Sunlight

Braine had seen what the thing that now lived in his home could do – It listened to Jose without question. Kyle listened to and respected his boss but he would never hurt his son. Braine knew that he was safe with his real father and he knew that this thing was not safe… therefore this thing could not be his father! He had tried to use excuses for the strange things that happened when Jose was around but this was too much. His father was gone and it was all Jose's fault!

Could the strange man have wanted this all along? Briane pushed the paranoid thought from his head. Jose was strange and he knew that the man had motives that no one understood but purposely hurting a friend seemed harsh even for him! Kyle had known the man for years and he seemed to trust the Spaniard. Briane felt a flush of shame as he realized what he was doing… He was forgetting who he was. First he was running away and now he naturally distrusting his father like he had done so his entire life. All of this knew strangeness was beginning to wear him down.

He hated the uncertainty of it all! Briane wanted his father to be his father again. Things were never great – Briane knew that his father was often worried and that they could not always afford everything that they wanted or needed… but things were never terrible. Briane was used to his life. It had a normalcy that he knew that he was dependent on. It wasn't a great life but it was his and he enjoyed it while it lasted.

The house and the working life-style were not the things that Briane held dear – what boy would wish for these things? It was Kyle Briane wanted… What could a boy do without his father? He would go back to poverty and hard labor if it meant going back to his father (his real father and not just some monster inside of his father). Briane thought about all of this as he walked.

He did not realize he was even walking. This whole mess started out with him running from the thing… That could not have been a bad thing. Briane knew that the swiftness of his escape had saved his life. Of course, what Briane really needed was to save his father and that required going back. How could he go back? Braine knew that he lacked courage but it scarred him more when he realized that he also lacked another thing: directions…

"Where am I," he pondered aloud in an open field full of trees at the west end. Fear gripped his chest in a vise. Saving Kyle was now Briane's top priority… How could he have left the man alone? Briane felt relief well in him as he noticed that two other people sat in the clearing with him. He thought about going up to them and asking for directions but he quickly gave up on the idea: these people could be some of Jose's friends. They were nobles just like him and he could not imagine that they would d anything to help a low servant.

Yes, Briane was young but he lived in the same world adults did: he had a job and he walked on the same streets. He saw the things that they saw and deduced the same truths from those experiences that they did. He saw that the nobles were not only treated differently than the peasants – as far as Briane could see, the nobles thought that they were different and who was he to argue? The world thought that nobles deserved to be better than him and the world knew more than little Briane.

Whatever made them different, Briane could not tell. Nobles looked like peasants – well, their clothes were better… Did that mean that Briane would be as good and wise and powerful as a noble if he only put on nicer clothes? Did a few feet of silk and lace make a person better? Was it the fact that nobles were "bread" to be nobles (Briane was not sure what this phrase really means. Kyle and Jose had used the word quite often in this concept). Thoughts ran through Braine's head so quickly that he did not notice that the lady was looking and him.

"Are you lost, child?"

"N-no, Mam." Briane prayed that the woman would leave him alone so that he could find his way back and look for a way to save his father. He turned quickly, knowing that no one would be worried about politeness and society out in the middle of the valley. Still, the lady was very persistent. "Wait! Please. We only want to help you. There is no need to be afraid!"

The boy still ran. He ran sp fast that he thought that his lungs would explode but he was forced to stop when the hand of his father came down on him and grapped his shoulder with a harsh, crushing sweeze. "I have been looking for you."

Braine tried to run but the thing just gripped him tighter. Braine yelled out in pain. "Stop! Leave him alone," demanded a female voice from somewhere to the south. The thing threw Briane (yes, his own son) into the cluster of trees and ran to the lady in the blue dress. Briane met blackness just after hearing her scream.

Light on the Dark

Bart knew that propriety ordered young couples to stay within the eye-sight of a chaperone but he also knew that Orchid enjoyed changing those unwritten – but widely known and obeyed – rules of society. He decided to let her have her fun and even to play around with her. Frances agreed with the plan – saying that no father would anger a daughter who was willing to risk her reputation in such a way as this: there was no telling when she would take the next step and leave without being in a proper marriage. He took her to the place where they could be in private. Let the servants and the court members talk! This would certainly move things forward!

He had planned on having a romantic walk around the prairie by the woods. He had set up a coach and a basket of food hours before he had planned on meeting Orchid. He knew that she would want to do this for the fun and adventure of keeping the court on their toes. Bart agreed that there was a possibility that Orchid would see the trip as too scandalous and refuse but he doubted that she would: Orchid was famous in some circles of the court for her daring escapades. Some even said that Louis allowed her to keep her father's seat because of them – her actions showed real back bone and proved to Louis that even a lowly female could show courage.

Of course, she did agree and the two of them road in silence as Orchid looked out the window. Bart sat and looked at her. He watched her eyes grow bigger and bigger as they got closer to their destination. She has been in that house too long, Bart thought to himself. None of his college chumps would look so doe-eyed at trees and flowers.

"This was a wonderful idea. It is so nice to be out of doors on a beautiful day."

"Yes, I was hoping that you would like it. I always find a walk away from the city to be very relaxing and invigorating."

Suddenly, Orchid stopped walking and held her mouth agape. "Look at that small boy. What could he be doing all the way out here?"

"There are no houses around here…" Bartholomew began.

"He must be lost!" Orchid's hand flew to her heart. Her sympathies were instantly flowing toward the young boy. She began to walk towards the clearing where the boy stood.

"Maybe I should walk up to the boy…" Bartholomew could not bring himself to trust a stranger like the lady could.

"It's nothing… He's only a boy," Orchid continued to walk as she explained to Bart that the child would not hurt her.

He quickly began to agree with her when he saw the boy's look of fear when he saw her moving towards him. The boy spoke respectfully to her but left as soon as he could.

"He seems rattled," Bart admitted to Orchid. "Why is he in such a hurry?" Orchid too felt that there was something deeper. The boy, of course did not trust them. He thought that they were like the others – Orchid knew what other nobles did to the peasants under their rule. Many of them bragged about the harsh punishments they had dealt out as if it made them a better ruler.

"Wait! We won't hurt you!" Orchid yelled after the boy as she fallowed him into the woods. She chased him blindly and never noticed the other man until it was too late. Luckily, Bart did see him. He ran to the stranger as he dove at Orchid. It was first the speed and then the strength that told him that this "man" was not a normal man. Bart was lucky enough to find a large branch in his reach when the thing pinned him down with one arm as he reached for the Lady with the other.

Bart swung the branch with all his might as he aimed it at the monster's head. The thing went down with a snap and a jerk of the head. By this time the boy was at the top of the crest of trees. "Papa!" yelled the boy as he knelt next to the thing. Orchid and Bart simply stared at him in shock – the boy reached out to touch the body of his father but was denied even that – at the touch of his fingers the body instantly turned to smoke.

The boy began to cry in huge, gapping sobs that shook his small body. Bart out his arm around the boy and patted his chest. "Come with me," Orchid commanded the boy in a gentle voice. "We'll take care of you."

What's in a Name?

The three of them rode back to the manor in a grand carriage. Bartholomew and Orchid had been riding is coaches for quiet some time but it was Briane's first carriage ride and despite his fear for his father, he was festinated by the carriage. He watched the rhythmic movement of the seats and the horses and tried to move his head in the same fashion. Orchid found herself staring back and forth between the boy and the young noble. The child was still worried but easily distracted with the new experience of being in a carriage. Bartholomew on the other hand was using his nervous energy to keep them safe – always looking behind him and asking the coachman to use side streets.

"Do you think it will really avoid country roads? I thought that the city would be safer – more people to help us if we need it…" Orchid did not agree with Bart's idea at first but she began to agree with him as he explained further:

"The monster is in guisguise as a man. He wants to go into the city. If he was able to attack better in the country he wouldn't have bothered with the guguise."

Orchid couldn't argue with Bartholomew's logic but something was still bothering her: Why was the monster after the boy. If he wanted to simply eat the boy, he could have done it before either of the adults were able to stop him. Why had he only gripped the boy?

Neither Orchid nor Bartholomew wanted to scare the boy; their concerns for him were exchanged with written words. Both of them agreed that it would be dangerous to just let the boy loose in the town and that they wanted – nay needed more information. "Do you have a home, child?" Asked Orchid. Braine shook his head. "Then you should stay with me."

Orchid spoke to her father about the child. The Count was against letting Orchid keep a strange peasant in the house for no reason – he agreed to let the child stay if he earned his keep. Orchid could not defy her father but she made it as easy for Briane as she could: all the servants knew not to hurt Briane – a common punishment was for the cook to beat someone who had done wrong. Briane's job was to follow Jacques, the candle boy on his work. The two boys seemed to like each other and quickly turned the job of lighting the candles into a game. Still, Briane never forgot why he was really there.

Drowning in Sun

Briane could not deny that he liked his life at the manor. Every one was nice to him but none of them ever would replace his father. What had happened to him – was it he who died in a puff of smoke and the monster who survived? He stopped all the morbid thoughts like a flicking of his wrist. Things were always bad and they were getting worse. No one in France could go back to a delusional fantasy. He had to write the Lord of Sands and tell him about his father! The two of them lived in his district. The more people in the district the more money the lord got. Surely he would care about the money and the scare it would cause? Peasants were expected to adapt to life without a thought. It was practically part of a farmer's job description.

Briane would need help if he wanted to even have a hope of defeating a noble. He knew that he would have to think like a noble in order to stop a noble. This letter may look like a simple letter. It was not written with fancy lettering or on fine paper. It was a plain, short letter: sweet and simple…but it was worth more to Braine (and maybe to the whole of France) than a simple noble would guess – no matter how well their education.

Good Noble Sir,

I am a simple peasant living in Beasai, a province under the just and compassionate rule of your hand. My family and I have lived there for generations. Unfortunately, we will not be able to live there much longer. My father has been taken in and forced to join with Don Jose – the Spanish Don in Louis' Court. My family wants nothing but to live peacefully on your lands – fighting for our father is something we wish to do – but we know that it will be futile…

No peasants could defeat a great noble. Of course, we might have a chance if, in your mercy, my Lord would save our loving father.

You are our only hope,

Briane Saphire

Briane knew that the message was short but he thought that it said enough to let the Lord know he was truly needed. Hopefully, he would read the letter during tax time and see how low moral was. The Lord was more likely to answer yes to the letter then – when the nobility were at their weakest and felt that all help was good – even help from the peasants. Nobility seem to automatically distrust people – of course Briane felt the same way… Some people have proven that trust is wasted on them. Jose had shown that to Briane and his father. Briane thought that his father knew what he was doing but the truth was that no one was sure what was going through the aristocrats' head.

Briane was relived to learn that not all aristocrats were like the man his father once thought of as a friend. The people who ran the world had the power to do what ever they wanted and Briane was glad to see that the people who ruled everything did have rules… Even they have to answer to God, he thought to himself, remembering the words his father had said.

That morning in Church seemed so long ago: Briane was watching his father out of the corner of his eye. Briane often did this: he wanted to know how grown ups did things. Their whole world seemed like a mystery to him. Every time he wanted to help an adult would say that he was too young. Adults didn't want children to know about their complex rules until they were old enough to no longer be called children. Briane decided years ago that it was his job to be the first kid to learn the adults' secrets. He watched all the adults he could and paid extra close attention to the adults who were conducting "business".

Church to Briane seemed like one of those carts that gave away toys… Only instead of making people pay for something to get a free cart the gift was given to anyone just for coming in. Stained glass windows shone down and reflected bright blues and reds onto the opposite wall. The golden yellow of the sun made the colors look so vibrant that Briane could hardly see the shapes within it. The building always seemed warm and welcoming.

The clergymen terrified him the first time he went into the church. The priests used to walk up to the pulpit with a stern look on their faces but once they took their places in front of the congregation their faces would suddenly morph into friendly smiles. Briane was usually suspicious of these types of things: people suddenly changing in those drastic ways usually meant that one of those ways was a lie. A priest would have good reason to want their clergy to think that they were happy, good people.

Briane had to use all the listening skills he possessed to find the information he needed. Every member of the congregation had thought that the men were good and most of them even had stories about the good deeds of the men. The factory worker, Mr. Jacques, was injured on the job. He had to quit his job because his arm could no longer handle the work-load. One of the priests came to Jacques' house every day and gave him a portion of the tithes and even did some small chores for him. If the men did all that they did not need to fake being nice. He was glad that they were truly good. He had seen how little good existed in the world the summer before:

A crowd gathers as the workers, farmers, tradesmen, and everyone in their families all unite to point and laugh at the unfortunate group's expense. There were five people tied together tightly with thick rope. It seemed that someone wanted to make sure that they would not escape…Briane shivered as he tried not to imagine himself in their place as a shout came from the throng of on-lookers shouting, "Pierre, look at this total drink! No one could look like that and not be a traitor." No one ever want to be one of those unfortunate people… but that was part of the game: Any one could be next: No one wants to be laughed at and be known for their own naivety. Yes, they had helped placed themselves before the terrible crowd! The condemned group had the wrong friends – the kind of friends who could not save them. They certainly didn't seem to have any friends now!

Braine usually tried to ovoid seeing the walk of the condemned – it was always so depressing and scary. Today's incident was no exception: he was just on his way inside when he caught a glimpse of the line of the tied people. The face was weathered and old but it also had a kind sparkle in the eyes – even though the man had to know that he was doomed. Briane was surprised to see a face with such hope in it. Most people in the line and the other lines that had come through before had look shocked or terrified. Briane stayed where he was to see the face clearer but immediately regretted doing so. The second to last face was one that he recognized – it was one of the clergymen! The one who helped the poor worker…

The crowd threw this and that at them: Anything from rotten vegetables to bricks were fair game. Briane squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see anything hit a man who had been so kind to everyone. Why did anyone want to see him go like this? How could such a kind person be a threat to France – or anyone for that matter! Why were these people so intent on his death? There was no reason to hurt a man of god – any one could see that he would not hurt a fly! Briane's mind and heart screamed at him to help the old man but his feet and mouth refused to move – he was so afraid! Briane stood still as stone until the strong hands of his father lifted him up and carried him back to the loft.

Briane had not shed one tear on the street but once his feet were firmly placed on the hard floor of the loft the tears flowed like rain. Gasping sobs escaped his mouth as ever-growing tears streamed from his eyes. Kyle wrapped his arms around his son's small body and rubbed his back. Neither of them said a word until dawn when Briane's tears stopped and the clergyman was long dead…

Kyle knew from that moment on that his son needed to be protected. No child should have to watch as some one they knew was dragged to the gallows! Kyle knew that his son was an innocent – he had not lived long enough to deserve any of the hardships he did face: not being able to sleep in a real bed, always being hungry and now seeing murders before his very eyes – these were not things a child should have to endure. It was Kyle's job to make sure that he didn't need to continue to go through the hardships. He would do anything to keep his son from knowing these horrors.

That's when all the bad things that had happened in Briane's short life started. Kyle started working with the crazy Don and the country of France became the setting of a new kind of war. The nation had seen war before but now brother fought brother. Fathers gave up sons! It seemed like the world was going crazy and the desperation of the rest of the country leaked into Briane's life as his father's dependence on the Don intensified.

Both father and son immediately began to regret the father's decision to apply to the request for an able-bodied worker. The first assignment had been short and simple but the length of assignments quickly grew as did their complexity. The kind of people he saw with the Don thrived on the misery and embarrassment of others. Kyle quickly learned this when he saw the "work" they did to the other nobles' homes. Some of the men started rebellions at the homes of propionate court-men. The cruel men employed by the Don would do everything they could to start a problem. Some of them even threatened the servants by saying that they would hurt them or their families if they did not do as they were told.

Don Jose seemed to generally enjoy scaring people. He would order his men to scare them for him if he was too busy in court. Kyle thanked the Lord everyday for giving the Don other men who would do these cruel things – even after years of service, Kyle never had to threaten or hurt anyone. Kyle was grateful to the Don for both allowing him to provide for his son and for allowing him to work for him without hurting people. The Don made it seem like he thought that it was a privilege to be in his presence and after awhile the people who worked for him viewed it as an honor as well.

The man had a way of hypnotizing people into believing what ever he believed. He could make Kyle think that they were friends. He could make the other court members think that he was a harmless man who would do whatever he was told. Jose could make the mob of France think that he was a humanitarian who would bring them power. Don Jose could make anyone think he was what they wanted him to be.

Briane saw the way the Don changed his mannerisms and moods with each party he visited. The nobles saw one side and the peasants saw another. No one knew the real man and no one saw the real intentions. Briane knew that the Don should not be trusted because he changed so much. If he was serious about one side, he wouldn't trade sides with each conversation! The Don's goal was whatever goal everyone else had. It was like he couldn't think for himself – if a man with less power or less money had acted the same way, Briane would have believed that they were simply spineless. Jose, on the other hand acts with great confidence – he leads men into murders and commands throngs with a few well-spoken words. He knows what he is doing even if no one else does! The Don is changing sides for a reason…It is just that no one knows what that reason is.

The Boy in the Dark

A dark-eyed man sat on top of his large bed that night. Sleep had alluded him fro several nights now. He had been expecting this. He was in his early twenties but a life of deception added age quickly. His lean, toned body and thin lips had been made up to make him look like a dignified noble. His eyes were the only body part that Frances told the servants to leave alone. Bart waited for his mind to quite and sleep to begin with a worried frown creasing his face. He had just said a load of lies that the nobles all wanted to hear about Spain and foreign relations. It was easier talking to Orchid – she just smiled when he started his usually political speech. In college, standing in the middle of the street and yelling that equal rights were needed and that Americans had the right idea was an accepted action. In court, the action was a death warrant – start out saying what they want to hear, advised Frances. He had been promised that once he rose in the ranks he could say his idealistic speeches to his hearts content. That time could not come too soon!

And what would happen once he did this? Would any of those nobles in court take him seriously? "I should have just gone in and told them what was going on in the streets of France – even Spain can see the turmoil!" he chided himself as he laughed at his own morbid joke. He wanted these people to know the truth – he was sure that if they did things would change. They would have to take him seriously once they saw how dire the situation was. It sounded so simple: setup a background and wait for the king to notice the great things going on and grant you a rank. Then the alliances would come pouring in! In truth, Bartholomew didn't really believe that any of the "friendships" he made in court were real – it really was all about politics. Facial expressions and body language said feelings more and words. The only person who he felt he could truly believe was the girl – Orchid.

She said the things she wanted to because she didn't have to worry about pleasing the court. She already had Louis' favor and a fortune to her name. There was no need to gain petty friendships and alliances. She could do what she wanted without worry. When she spoke it was evident that she meant and believed what she said. Her eyes sparkled and color rose in her cheeks. The corners of her mouth turned up as her chest rose up and down with greater speed. She never had to lie or live a double life but she also felt for those who did have a hard life. She had told him that she agreed with his ideas about equality with those clear eyes and her dark brows furrowed in seriousness. – No one could fake such sincerity!

No matter how well a person lied, the truth would be written on their life through the friendships they kept. Whenever Bart and Frances were corresponding through letters, Bart was unsure of the man's intentions. Once they met face-to-face Bart could see that the man was serious. Anyone can lie in a letter. The sway of an eye lid or the flush of a cheek cannot give a lie away in a letter. The only sure way to see the truth of the matter was to meet and see the other person's face – mainly their eyes! The eyes are the window to the soul and to see the depth of a person's soul, one must see their eyes. How could he explain anything to Orchid in a letter or trust any letter she sent.

"I should seal it or send one of the gents as a messenger," he thought sadly. "I could have at least tracked out a location. Then I could arrange a meeting."

Scenes played in his mind over and over. What if one of the Spanish Dons suspected that he was not Spanish and got suspicious? What if they talked and have been intercepting Orchid's letters for months? What if by sending this one letter, he ended up giving up the location of all the "resistance"?

So many things could go wrong… There was so much room for uncertainty but also so much room for possibilities. So many things could happen but what would happen? Why was he suddenly questioning himself? Bart had been in the resistance to help peasants for years. He had done many more dangerous things than sending a letter to a noble.

"Breath," he reminded himself… "I've been around stiff nobles for too long!"

Those Who Block the Sun

Orchid raced to her father's message slot. She hoped that a letter from the new Spanish nephew of the count had written her. He had said he would but she had learned that many men lie about such things. She told herself that she would not be cross with him if he had not written… Still she longed to read a letter and imagine each letter of each word forming as a syllable from his firm mouth.

None of the other men at court were like him. The whole of the court's champers seemed to shake when they laughed and mocked each other like ugly hyenas. Everyone likes to think that it was the very earth's way of fighting against them – that even inanimate objects could see that they were using it for evil. Of course logic told Orchid and her friends that it was only that the giant feet of the servants and men above them stomping. Some people seemed so happy to see someone else get hurt and those types of people seemed to thrive at court. Part of Orchid wanted to leave the madness of court and another part of her said that she could change the way the court acted: Should not a good equal a good? If laughter is contagious than shouldn't someone else's joy bring others joy?

Turning to look over her shoulder, Orchid saw two shadows hurrying to catch up with her. Most people – especially the type of people in court, would have been a little nervous by this. Orchid heard the squished of silk after her own dress' swirl – she was sure that the shadows belonged to her ladies in waiting. They had been visiting the countess' seamstresses with new orders for her father and the ladies of the house. She turned the corner that lead to the box and gasped: a tall man stood before her holding a knife. She opened her mouth to call for help but was unable to as the man quickly dove at her. His hand covered her mouth and squeezed at her cheeks. She tried to kick at her capture but found that she could not even do that. Her dress was wrapped around her legs and made quick movement nearly impossible.

She was terrified and helpless. Nothing could be done to stop this man – she could barely move to stop him. Nor could she call for help. The man covered her mouth and quickly covered her eyes as another man quickly bound her hands. She silently prayed that the shadows really did belong to her ladies – or that they were close and had seen or suspected something… They were her only hope.

After a long and mysterious journey on carriage and horseback, Orchid and her two captures made it to their destination. Orchid was surprised when the men gently removed her bonds and gag. She could finally see her captures: one was short – she stood taller than him in her heals; the other had dark, dark hair. It seemed that the evil in this man jumped out of them before the graciousness that must also seemed to reside in them had a chance to have a glimpse of the outside world. Emboldened by their kindness and the halt of the carriage that allowed her heart to slow down and stopped the panic that surged through her being.

Orchid took three deep, cleansing breaths before she was able to ask, "Where are we?"

One man with dark hair looked at her with fiery eyes. "You are not here to ask questions! Now sit and be quiet! You should be thankful to us – if you had stayed your fate would be much worse." The dark-heard man said all this to Orchid while the short man never turned around to face her. She stretched her neck to try to get a better look. The dark man saw her looking and quickly stepped to the side to block her view. She could tell from his frown that any other attempts would be hopeless. She hated to not know what was happening. If it was better for her hear that they had to be up to something there! What schemes could they be planning in Louis' court?

Thoughts of her father whirled through her head. Would they end up killing him? Everyone in court? Images of her father: Walking by the river as a child… and her friends: Laughing with her ladies in waiting at the court… Images of the count's Spanish nephew ran in her head and stayed there. His smiling face and sparkling eyes looked straight at her. He was frozen in her minds' eye but full of warmth even with the frozen exterior. His eyes were one of the things that separated him from the other nobles – they had feeling and compassion in them. He tightened his face to make himself look hard but the truth was in his eyes. He had a heart and she believed that he let it rule over his mind and the greed for money. She knew that greed was behind this attempt on her life as well. Everything leads back to greed…

How can I be thinking of him when all these other things are happening around me? She knew the answer as soon as her mind had asked the question: Because she hoped that it was he who saved her. She wanted him to hold her in his arms and protect her. This is a natural thing, she told herself. There were only a few people her age in court and he was one of them. He was foreign and had an aura of mystery around himself and attracted many young courtesanesses. It was nothing she insisted to herself even as the warmth of passion filled her.

A rough push forced her back into the reality of the situation. The shorter captor was apparently trying to tell her to move. Orchid shakily got to her feet. It was hard for her to balance with her hands still bound behind her back. She started to stumble but the man's grip on her arm instantly stopped her from falling. "The walk will help get the blood flowing in your limbs again," he said to her with a strange look in his eyes. Orchid met him look for look.

"Why am I here?"

"Don't worry… Our plan is not meant for you. We only destroy the wicked."

"Who are you going to destroy in the court? Are they all wicked?"

"Soon, we will know."

Orchid allowed the man to lead her to another small shack-like structure in the middle of the field where the other man stood. He saw the two of them and smiled an empty smile. These men claimed to be trying to help her and all of France but them also admitted to wanting to hurt the other members of the court. These men seems very confused like they were not sure what the next step would be, still they seemed very sure of themselves at the same time. It was obvious that these men were unstable… real question was what they were truly capable of doing.

Water of Sunlight

Braine liked working in the mansion. The people there were nice to him but he missed his father. He hoped that the noble man would answer his letter and help him. The servants had told him not to wait on the nobles. They were born lazy and needed peasants who did work, to help them. Braine couldn't argue with the older and more knowledgeable servants but he hoped and prayed that they were wrong. He couldn't save his father on his own! So, he waited for the noble to answer his letter.

After the weeks and weeks that seemed to last forever to the young boy, he knew that he could no longer rely on the noble's compassion or his support. His only option was to go find his father himself and bring him to a doctor. The master of Briane's new house was kind and sensible. He would never turn away a needy soul who stood before him – even the old servants who cleaned the master's coats agreed with him on this. The master would have to take Kyle in and get him to doctor. Briane just had to find his father and bring him to the manor.

Briane walked the familiar path. That was where Kyle had turned into a monster in the woods. That is where Don Jose lives…. The list of familiar place grew more and more intendment as Briane neared his home. That was where the baker who used to give him cookies at half price lived. That is where the scary grandmother lives with her daughter and her five grandchildren. Memories flew back to him with each block and Briane became surer and surer that he needed to have his real father back.

He had come to the loft that he and his father shared. Would Kyle be there? Was he out running errands for Jose? Braine hated to have traveled all this way for nothing (he even asked one of the other servants to cover for him) without accomplishing anything but he also hoped that the monster was not there. If that meant that nothing was there than so be it.

Braine knew that the longer he waited to confront the thing that had stolen his father's body the more terrifying it would be. He ran up the stairs to their loft and flung the door open, not realizing that he had closed his eyes. He had walked this way so many times that he had never really paid attention to the actual steps that he had taken. His father used to joke that he could have walked from Jose's to the flat in his sleep… Braine had traveled about half that with his eyes closed. The idea of confronting the monster terrified him that much but he was already standing in an open doorway. It could be coming at him right now. He forced his eyes open!

The flat was coved in clothes and blankets. Someone had broken into his mother hope chest and ripped out all of its' contents. His mother's blue wedding gown hung over the rocking chair (the only chair with a back in the entire flat). The quilt she had helped her mother sew was ripped in half. The red and yellow cloth of the baby clothes was strewn everywhere in the small space. Braine was shocked to see the destruction of memories as if the vandals had destroyed more than just physical things.

Braine didn't remember anything about his mother – she had died shortly after giving birth to him. His father had told him many stories about her: how she loved him and cared about her family. His father had gone through the hope chest every night to lull Braine to sleep. He had heard each items' story enough times to repeat them word for word – just as many times as he had walked into the loft. The hope chest, even though it had belonged to someone he never met, seemed like a part of his life and it hurt him to see it scattered so!

Briane took a deep breath and stepped into the room looking to the left and to the right. He could not see his father in the front room. Maybe he was in the bedroom… Briane turned the corner and walked in. The bedroom was even more wrecked than the front room:

The mattress was no longer on the bed and the sheets and pillows were torn to shreds. The left window was broken and the oil lamb that used to hang over the bedpost rolled in the middle of the wheatear's field. The red glow of the sun shined against the glass pains of the oil lamb as the soft wind made it spin in the street. Briane felt his stomach fall to the floor. His father was gone and he was truly alone.

Flashes in the Moonlight

Don Jose smiled as a mob of people formed in the streets. He was not sure why they were there but it did not matter to him. He wanted to watch France crumble and hoped the world's powers would soon follow. When chaos ensued the person who could do things was the person who ruled because no one cared about nobilities or families when the world was coming to an end! There would no longer be any "god-chosen" rulers. The common people would condemn and kill their rulers believing that God had abandoned them – just like they had in the days of old. The Roman Emperors knew that a mob was something to fear… The ruling families and monarchs today did not.

The Aztec leaders and chieftains literally watched their blood flow into a large basin to show the people how devoted they were to the gods – they knew the importance of the mob and that to survive as a ruler they must be appeased. Commoners knew that the king was strong because they saw both his physical and mental strength everyday at sunrise when he would but himself and offer the gods his own blood. Kings were not chosen because of their fathers… Their strength was their own.

That was the fair way to do things: idiots can be born into a noble or royal family. Louis was an idiot as far as Jose was concerned. He was against war and conquest…how was the country to grow? Louis was weak and afraid of war. The country needed a strong king: one that was not afraid of becoming the ruler of more than a country. Jose could be that king. The commoners did not even know that he existed but they would learn of him and his strength very soon. As soon as they saw the symbol of his power, ambition, and devotion they would be begging him to rule over them. He would be the first truly strong ruler that France had seen but oh…he would not stop with France.

Soon, the world would be at his mercy! With the world's leaders following codes and ethics, a powerful could take over in the blink of an eye. If some of the "leaders" that thought they had control tried to stop him, it would be simple and easy to just send an army in – everyone seemed to fear war (that's because their soldiers do not fear them) Jose knew. The mob had to be thought to submit to a ruler – rulers had to show strength and them no mob would want to topple them. Fear would keep the bad monsters at bay and keep the good ones near him.

The crowd that was out there in the street now had no idea that Jose existed. He was simply another noble man. He could leave for Spain and they would not care – he had done nothing to them! Every member of the Mob thought without consulting his or her head – it was all in the heart. Everyone was emotional and they did things without thinking…The mass of people only had one goal and none of them could tell an on-looker what that goal was:

Some would say that they were working for freedom or justice. Others would say for revenge or for fairness. All these things were feelings with meaningless definitions! Jose knew that this senseless mass would do what ever he asked if they believed that it could get them closer to their goal and because they had no real definition of their goal… He could get them closer!

The madman's thoughts continued on in such a manner as he watched the mob burn mansions and throw sticks. Policemen came to stop the ruckus but everyone could see that it would take more than that to stop the mass epic of disaster that was to come. Static, rock, and flame all erupted from the mass with electricity that would have scared even Jose had he not been behind the oldest and most powerful demon that ever existed in the thousdand-millinia of the Aztecs. He chuckled happily from his secure place by his creation and rubbed his hands knowing that triumph was on the way.

The Streets and the Windows

Three tall men stood in the doorway of an abandoned stable in the middle of the county. The stable was so old that the wood had turned gray and brittle long ago and was not to be destroyed – anyone who saw it would know that it would destroy itself soon enough.

"Must we meet in this drab place? It always dampens my spirits to see a place of progress and invention so deteriorated," whined the man dressed in blue silk that stood to the right.

"We have no choice but to meet in an isolated area like this… They are all as drab and sad as this," answered the man on the left.

"As sad as this is, seeing my own home burn or feeling the flames lick my skin as the world burns around me seems much sadder," pointed out the man with white hair as the rest of them shuddered.

"Do not speak of such things," ordered the man in blue. "Do you know how likely they are to be true? Do you wish the devil on us?"

"Do not be over-dramatic," the middleman reminded the other two. "We are here on business and we must get to work." The group of men moved into the house and was socked at what they saw:

The stable that was once full of the hay that hid the trap door where the gold and gems of the three households lay. Of course, the three nobles watched this area carefully and had faithful men hiding in the woods to watch for thieves. The greatest fear of the men was simply that these guards had betrayed them. Our own servants have turned us into victims, thought the man in blue angrily as he ran forward in front of the other two men. He was the youngest, the fastest, and the most spontaneous of the three. He was too young to know that hurrying would not stop what was happening nor would it keep the worse from happening.

The nobles saw that they were not alone but it was not who they expected – the three guards – there in the supposedly abandoned stable. It was two young men dressed in peasants' clothes and a younger woman in a disheveled dress. This was not what he had expected to see. He did not know what this was about but he did know that the other men needed a warning:

"Things are worse than I thought," admitted the man in blue as he yelled back to the other two nobles.

The other two men looked at each other in confusion. "What exactly is different?"

The nobleman in blue opened his mouth to answer but the other two men who had traveled with him made it over to the other side of the stable. One of the two peasants pulled the young woman by the arm. She followed him but seemed reluctant to do so.

"There's no where to go," declared the noble in blue. "Now tell me, what is this about?"

"Why are you here?" asked the tall man in peasants' clothing.

"We own this land through the King's grace," argued the noble in green silk.

The two men smiled and nodded as if they were reassuring a pouting child. The noblemen were about to object and show the men the paper the king himself had signed but they never got their chance. The two men pulled the girl back with them and flew out of sight in seconds.

"What was that?" Exclaimed the man in blue as his voice shook.

"Who cares what it was… Thank the heavens it is gone."

"Do you think that those men were part of the mob?"

"Maybe they were magicians from the New World. You know those crazy savages hate the nobles," one of the nobles had been "in charge" of one of the expeditions to the New World. He had, as was proper, simply paid an adventurer to go on the ship for him and record the finds. He had paid the man well, he hoped that the money and fame would convince the adventurer not to sail away with the gold they were sure to find in the New World – if fame and money would not do it than the threat of death and hanging the theft of the king's gold brought surely would.

The younger man had just recently left the university. He prided himself in his rational and logical thought process of minuet details. He thought himself a kind of detective – he would never lower himself by actually becoming one but he often thought of using his crime-solving skills as a hobby. It was those skills that allowed him to be aware of one thing: "Where did the girl come from? She dressed like a noble and seemed to be afraid…"

"You think that she is the Duke's daughter… The one the king's men were looking for?"

"Who else could she be?"

"That girl could be anyone! A silk dress does not make her a nobleman's daughter. You presume too much," warned the middleman who never seemed to move.

"Silk is still as costly as it was last year. Peasants cannot afford it."

"Peasants can steal it though! You have seen the smoke and the fires. Surely three is some looting as well."

"Half the commoners are starving and more interested in food than in clothes. The other half are too afraid about being mistaken for nobles to grab a silken gown," argued the man in blue. "That dress was so dirty… If it was stolen the woman could not hope to sell it. She has to be a real noble."

"Many nobles are missing after all the raids. She is still not necessarily the Duke's girl."

"Who cares whose daughter she is as long as she is a noble? The king will reward us anyway."

"Now you are sounding like a common peasant, looking for a quick get rich scheme." The nobles smiled at their teasing. If they were in the court of Louis, the teasing would be an unforgivable offense. Still, out here, in the middle of the country, far from the violence, it seemed as if the Court and the rules of the Gentlemen were centuries of miles away. None of that seemed to matter… That is, nothing except the reward that was to come.

"Look, we'll go to the King's men and tell them where the girl is. When they ask how we knew, we will casually explain that we were hiding from the mob in the stable."

"What about the money and the jewels?" Fear and suspicion crept into the man in blue's voice as he said this, looking down at the hay on the ground. If the King's men came, they would need more than hay to hide their crimes and protect the money.

"We can get that into the carriage. If the King's men see it we can explain that we did not want it to be stolen. They will understand our fears," said the man in green to reassure his two comrades. "Besides, the rewards of the King's favor is more valuable than even the gold we have here."

The other two nodded in agreement and it was decided: They would ride back to the burning city and win the king's favor with their tale.

The Darkness in the Day

Orchid was as surprised – if not more so – as the men who watched her disappear with the commoners. The whole stable was dark but it was broken by an abrupt flash of sunlight. She was both alarmed and hopeful at this change of events. The light could be the coming doom that her captures continued to speak of or it could be the coming of rescuers.

She silently prayed that the light was a type of repentance for the nobles and herself – for France in general – and not a sign of judgment. For France had done many things wrong – as had all countries in Europe, because everyone made mistakes but that was no excuse! Everyone did things wrong and everyone needed forgiveness. That was why everyone should accept an apology and give forgiveness: If no gives forgiveness than any one will receive forgiveness.

Orchid knew these truths from Sunday School but she also knew that logic and human nature coincided with this rule: If one person did not forgive another, other human beings view the first man as not being worthy of forgiveness. Only a person with a humble heart can truly give (and therefore truly receive) forgiveness. Humans would not want to forgive a man who would not forgive others just as they would not feed a man who did not share his food with beggars in their hour of need. The only way to convince the world that someone was worthy of forgiveness was to give someone else forgiveness: it proves that the giver of forgiveness has mercy and compassion – two valuable and sought after allies, even in the courts of kings! Kings want people who show that they are wise to rule by their side but not someone who will be tempted to take the crown – they need someone they can trust and who shows that they deserve trust! The trusted advisers and friends need to show that they are humble and compassionate (why else would Nebuchadnezzar have chosen Daniel to be an adviser and wise man).

She wanted to have the same honesty and purpose, as he did to not only know what was right but also to act on it. People like that seemed to never be afraid. Right now, Orchid was always afraid – when she was with her father, she knew that no one would dare to challenge a Duke Weather the attacker was a noble or a peasant but here she did not even have her father's name as a shield. She was alone and defenseless in this remote barn in the middle of nowhere with two men who despised all nobles.

The only glimmer of hope in this dark world was that the men had chosen to save her from the fate that the nobles had in store for them. Why did they grant her this honor? What made her special enough to have the only "get out of punishment" pass? These men did not care about what Louis found charming and what he liked best. They were not looking to get Louis' favor through her. What were they looking for? Orchid knew that she needed more than a glance of the glimmer of the hope that she had. Soon she would have to find the answer to all their riddled secrets…As soon as she found why their chose to save her, she would learn what they were going to do to her father. Her heart drove her to keep pressing these men.

They did not seem mean only confused. She did not fear them…only the ideas they took in form the man they followed. They spoke of the man often and quoted his smooth, vague rhythms every time she asked a question. He seemed to have given them an answer that would not give away any real intent to any question. The way they described the man made her think of him as a dictative ruler who thought of himself as a god. Of course, what else would she think of the man who was holding her captive and threatening to kill everyone she knew?

The man wanted to be a murderer! How could he be anything but a monster? The two men who were holding her did not understand that the nobles did not see what was happening and that there were good people trying to help the commoners – all these men knew was that their families were hungry and that there seemed to be no way out. How could they know anything but this when they have never been to court or even knew of all the men who made it?

"You told me that your plan was not really about killing but about showing nobles that commoners can be noble," Orchid's voice roes at the last syllable as if her statement were a question. The tall captor sensed this and nodded at her words.

"Would your act not show more nobility if you were to do it before the eyes of the court? Show them your nobility before whipping them out?"

"That act may seem nobler but it will be nearly impossible to accomplish. It is amazing that mere peasants have gotten this far, No?"

She sighed, knowing that she would never have the chance to get them to see the truth: they did not have to do this! In fact, their act would hurt their cause more than helping it… Even with their strange idea of showing nobility, the plan made no since at all. How would killing hundreds of people show nobility?

Questions with no answers rushed through her head as the men lead her to a door where she could see light. Days of near darkness allowed her to make out the long tunnel she was traveling down in the small light from the cracked door. The tunnel echoed as the drip-drip of water sounded from the back of the cramped barn. Yet, another sound perpetrated the noise: voices. She recognized one of them from court – Could it be the governor of Ashe? Why would he, or any noble for that matter, be out in the middle of the woods?

The next few moments seemed to flash in incoherency to Orchid as the men opened the door and light flooded the passageway. She remembered being pulled towards the wall by the two men who had captured her. She hoped that the other nobles would understand what their strange riddles were all about. The men talked with each other for a very short time – Orchid was pulled into the darkness before the men had even said a formal greeting!

The Daybreak

Bartholomew stood in his room at the nobleman's home. He had spent the day with members of the court explaining to them that the economy would improve if the plight of the workers were changed. The other men still believed that their lives were not connected to the workers. The workers of France carried the backload of the country while the rich seemed to get all the spoils. Bart was not an extremist – he did not think that the rich should simply grade places with the poor but surly a man who worked hard should be able to feed his family?

He thought of his conversation with Orchid and how she had understood his every word. The passion in her eyes awakened a passion within him as he spoke. It was as if she knew what she was going to say before he said it because her heart was saying the same thing. The others at court seemed to hold onto the ideas that they wanted. They had been taught that they were better than commoners and that they deserved better than them their whole life. Bartholomew fought down his anger… All these people thought that he was less than them because of where he came from. They would not have given his mother a second glance if they passed her on the street. Still, he knew that the important thing was where he was going and to get a better life was going to be getting a better life for others.

Yelling at the nobles would not help the commoners and that was his goal. He wanted to give them the same chances he had gotten: the chance to go to school and to be able to see what they were really getting into. Bills that are passed will have a meaning for them instead of obscure number or title. They will know what the nobles are doing to them before it happens. Petitions and papers will inform the nobles as to what the public needs instead of the riots that are going on now.

While all these thoughts and frustrations moved through Bartholomew's head, a messenger came to the door and handed a think envelope with a red court seal to the nobleman. The messenger hurriedly left the room, knowing that he had other letters to attend to and that they absolutely had to be on time! Bartholomew looked closely at the seal and saw that it was not a mere court seal but the seal of Louis himself. The nobleman's brow was knit in worry and concern as he also studied the envelope and the message within.

"What is it?" The older man just stood next to his ward with his mouth open. "Say something!" Bartholomew's shout made the servants and the old nobleman jump so he was quickly freed from his trance. "We need a new plan," Bart stared at his mentor blankly. "The girl is gone. She was believed to be kidnapped but a note was found earlier this morning saying that she ran away with Jose. The king has placed a search out for her. He thinks that there is an ulterior motive and that she is being taken advantage of."

"I have met the man and would have to agree with his Majesty. The man could not have the girl's best interest at heart. I think that he is evil enough to plant that note."

"You do not think that she is really with Jose? You know her father admits that they wrote to one another often?"

"She would not leave everything she has for a man she only wrote a few letters to."

"You are still new to the ways of women. Passion can move them to do anything," warned the mentor.

"This girl is different," Bartholomew demanded. "She would not have run away with a fool like him if she was not forced to. The king is right: His Majesty is not just being suspicious of Spain. Don Jose is up to something."

"I can't argue with you… I just hope you know that you are going to need more proof than that when you accuse the man before the court."

"The king already accused him. All I have to do is find them."

"The Don will not come easily. He knows that he will be going to his death. You are going to have to find him and outsmart him before you will be able to bring him in. A wounded dog will fight to the death. The Don will be even fiercer when he finds that he has nothing to loose."

"What do you know about all this?" There was a dramatic pause: the old man licked his lips and the young student pretending to be a lord rubbed his hands. Neither one of them were sure if they were ready to hear all of this. "If we are going to go all the way through with this project I nee to know what I am up against. You have said how conniving and studious the Don is and we both know that I am going to need all the information that I can get to defeat him. Things will go much faster if you just tell me."

"I knew that it would eventually come down to this but I did not expect it to be so soon."

Flash in Black

Braine could only think of one other place to look for this father – Jose's office. It seemed like the only logical place now that he looked back on it. It was the last place he and his father had been together and it seemed to be the only place his father where his father allowed himself to be nervous before the accident. Braine could not shake the feeling that the Don was evil. There was just something off about him. The Don was everything his father was not: sneaky and secretive over even the minutest detail.

Kyle was honest and caring. Even when things were bad and the future was scary, he never openly lied to his son. There were times when his father would try to hide things from him – like the fact that money was low – but he never told him it wasn't low either. If he went up and asked his father a question he knew that he would get an honest answer. That was just the type of person his father was. It was in him when he was born. Don Jose must have been born with the same kind of determination to cause mayhem. Braine watched him stand in the middle of the street while the smoke billowed around him. He seemed to look at the destruction with wonder and awe – almost a sick joy. This man had all the right things going for him: He was a little mad, really angry, and extreme political.

Jose knew all the tricks to this strange business that Braine and his father did not understand. The sad thing was that he knew he had the control and relished in it. He loved every second that he was in control. It seemed like an intoxicating mixture of giddiness and obsessive-compulsiveness took over him as he delved into the very lives that only meant something when they were in his hands.

Jose turned up the street and into his new office building. He smiled when he saw something there in the shadows next to his desk, which is not a normal thing for most men to do. Jose smiled because he knew why the man in the shadows was there. He was no man at all. He was the thing that used to be Braine's father, the monster that lived inside of him. The thing began to make a clicking and chilling sound that seemed to come from the bottom of his throat.

"Good, Good," Jose murmured as he soothed his new pet. "The job is done. All I have to do is wait and then, you shall go out on another errand…"

Jose smiled an evil smile as the images of the actions that were about to take place ran through his head. Kyle had refused to do things like this when he had control of his body but now the body belonged to the thing that Jose had created. Kyle could not stop the actions that the thing did but Jose liked to think that Kyle was still lost in his body somewhere, watching the ultimate betrayal take place.

Jose felt like his life was not complete unless other people were as miserable as he was. Yes, the nobleman smiled constantly, but that did not mean that he was always happy. Jose felt that there was not enough happiness to go around the world. If some people could not be happy, why should anyone be happy? It is not fair to let some people have a treasure if others cannot… Unless that one person is the strongest, Jose reminded himself. The strongest always won and Jose needed to make sure that the true winner would be himself.

Briane's Discovery

Briane had to run back to the manor because he had been gone for several hours now. Another servant said that he would cover for Briane but the boy knew that the servant's patience would not last forever. He ran down the familiar streets that he and his father had trod on. It seemed like Briane had not seen these streets in years. Everything about them had changed during the riots that had taken place during the last few days. Tears filled Braine's eyes as he realized how his own life had changed just as quickly.

He wanted to turn around again and continue searching for his father but he knew that he could not. He needed a safe place to bring his father once he was found and the Lady's house was the safest place he knew. He had to keep working there for himself and his father. Finding his father would be wonderful but where could he hide him if he did not have the manor? Even a sneaky man like Jose would never suspect that Kyle and Braine were hiding in a rich noble's home. Still, how could Briane take care of Kyle? Briane's new roommate would hate to have another person crammed into the tiny room with them. There was only one way that would allow Briane and his father to stay safe.

Braine walked through the servants' back entrance of the house with a new reason in life. He needed to do his best at the work to thank the Lady and her father for helping him and so that he could earn the privilege of having a big room. Briane's roommate had told him that only the hardest workers got their own rooms with a large fireplace and a real bed but the room has never gone to a new worker. Still, the room would be large enough for both he and his father in live in comfortably and the room would be in the manor. So, if Kyle needed Briane while he was working he could just sneak down here to see him and help him heal from his illness.

Briane prayed that his father was safe even though the monster had taken over his body and hoped that they would meet again before the real Kyle was gone forever. The best doctors in the country would come to a Duke's house even if it was just to treat a servant. They would come to help his father because of his position in the Duke's house. Briane would save his father by working hard and getting doctors and they would know what to do because they were the best doctors.

Thoughts of glory and healthy made sprouts of happiness burning Briane's soul because of the rapturous ambition he now felt. He knew he could save his father and he knew how to do it! He was so caught up with the excitement and happiness of all of his musings that he almost forgot to get back into work! Luckily, his roommate did cover for him and the other servants felt sorry for Briane. They knew that he was only a child – and a lost one at that and they wanted to help him. Maybe Briane could be new and get the large room with the help of all these people. Who would not want to help a lost boy find his father?

The kitchen crew agreed to ask the delivery workers who traveled up and down the rivers if they had seen a man of Kyle's description. The other boys, the butler's two sons, agreed to take turns covering for Briane when he went out looking for his father. The boys had worked in the manor for years and they new the tricks to not getting noticed. Still, they needed some resolution to this deal: Briane could not leave for more than two hours each week. Lastly, but most importantly, the maids agreed to let the mistress know that Briane needed a big room and why. The Lady did not decide who received the room but she was always kind to the servants and seemed to have some sway over the decisions.

Briane tried to continue with his work as if everything were normal but he could not help himself from asking the cooks if they had heard anything every time he was near the kitchen. The cooks warned him that if he kept asking and volunteering for assignments that would lead him to the kitchen, the Duke would get suspicious and might fire him.

"Why would he fire me for talking to you?" He asked innocently.

"It's not that you talk to us," the head cook, a large woman with a greenish face explained. "Servants have been known to go into the kitchen and take some sweet cakes. If the master thinks that you are grabbing a sweet cake each time you come in here than he may get upset."

Briane nodded at her words even though he was not sure that he understood. He agreed that he would stay away from the kitchen for a while so that he would not get in trouble. He would never get the room if the Duke fired him! The room was now one of his main goals, second only to that of finding his father. Several servants told Briane that the chances of him getting the room were slim but he knew that he could do it: He had to at least try… for his father because he could do anything.

He walked to the yard to finish his chores, not really thinking about anything particular, when his eyes caught a quick blur… It was a movement so intensely fast that no shapes appeared. The perpetrator was a mere shadow: it had no shape or form. Briane feared and a ghost or beast of the night had run into the manor's grounds and was now stalking him. Briane could not accurately describe what the creature was but he could say what it was not: the shadow moved with in-human speed. What ever the thing was it could not be human.

The shadow ran by Briane again and Briane's mind screamed at him to run to the house before the monster attacked him but he was too shocked to move. The first time the monster ran by, he kept running until Briane could not see him but this time, the thing stopped only a few feet away from him. The shadow turned his face towards the light of Briane's lamp. Briane stopped breathing when he realized that the mud-caked thing in front of him was his father.

Following Murmurs

Bartholomew and the old noblemen had been deep in conversation all afternoon. The young man and the old one had been arguing for sometime now over a technicality. The old man thought that the mission was simply to thwart the Spanish Don and that the best course of action was to stop him through the "arms" of his operation. Bartholomew disagreed. The mission's directives were very specific: save the girl and stop the evil Don. The mission had to be followed. Therefore the best course of action was to follow the plan and go after the men who took Orchid.

The nobleman dismissed Bart's ideas as those of a lovesick youth but Bartholomew would not loose so easily. The argument raged until the nobleman pointed out one important fact.

"You do not know where the Lady is being held. The best way to find her is still to follow the Don. These Spanish know how to keep their secrets between brothers better than the likes of good French men like you and me."

Bartholomew sighed in defeat. His mentor knew him well enough to know what direction he had to take to get his way. They had gotten closer than he had imagined they would have in those short months. He had grown closer to this old man than he had to the professors he had seen lecture for over four years. The old man knew his every move after the hours they spent practicing the elaborate debate that was to show the nobles what was really happening to the peasants beneath them. The old man knew all the arguments better than Bartholomew because Bart had resided the speeches to him so many times.

He knew how Bart's brain worked and he knew that Bart was trying to over think the problem so that he could have a solution that involved the girl. It was nothing more than hormones and an arrogant youth going after a girl in the noble's mind. He knew that Bart wanted to help her but to do that; he had to step aside like a true noble. Was that too much for a love struck peasant boy? Only time would revile that answer as the pair embarked for the Courts of Paris and their destiny.

Orchid's True Answer

Orchid had been lead and dragged and carried all through the barn structure and the land that surrounded it. Her captures had been in a rush and had no patience with any thing. They were rood to her but they were worse with each other. They had yelled at her to hurry several times and yelled insults quite often but they were physical when the anger was directed at each other. A small argument usually ended in a fistfight. No injustice was small or worth forgiving to them. Today's argument was no different and the two men were reacting accordingly.

"Do you see this?"

"Of course I do. I was up all night finishing it."

"I can tell that you were up late. This work is worth less. You forgot to add the pieces here," he pointed, "here and here."

"That is impossible! The directions you gave me must have been wrong."

She knew that the fist would be flying momentarily. She could not see what they were working on – they never let her near their lab – but it started the same way each day. The two men claimed to want the same things that acted as if this one thing meant more to them than life itself. Still, they could not get along even for the cause they claimed to share: It obviously did not mean as much to them as they claimed and she hoped to use that fact to her advantage. The two men did not seem to want to admit that the camaraderie they shared did not fix all problems.

The bond of their cause did not stop them from arguing constantly or from fitting each other. The two men seemed to enjoy pointing out the mistake the other had made in the past and rubbing it under his nose when the best opportunity seemed to arise. The men did not care if the words hurt the other or if the words hindered their work. The strength of their friendship and the bond of the goal did not stop the men from stopping their work. They claimed to be near a break through only to have a fight and have to halt in their work an hour or two later.

The time they spent fighting or playing did not seem to matter: the time only mattered when they were near a "dead line" and when the leader himself would be let down if the work was not done. When the threat of the master's disappointment was a real one, both men seemed to fight less and work more. They knew that if he was coming, they would need to show extra self-discipline. The men always thought that it would be the Master himself who would check on them but it was always one of his representatives who came in his stead.

These men followed a promise without a face because that was all that had been given to them. They couldn't see that the promise was a fake one because no real promise had ever been given to them. All they had seen was a false world so they could not recognize a true one. The men were confused and afraid so they had to latch on to something. The only thing they saw was the lies that the evil people they worked for spun in front of them. No one was there to explain that the thing that the men explain that not everything the men said was true. There needed to be evidence behind an idea to make it a true fact.

The men did not understand this concept, so they committed many evils without knowing that they were evils. No one told them that the acts they committed were wrong so they assumed that the only other option was for them to be right. Orchid knew that the only way she was going to be able to get out of this building was to pit the two men against each other. Both men were so unsure and insecure that the deed should not be a hard one to complete. They second-guessed themselves at each turn. The men could be manipulated easily if Orchid only used the opportunities that stood before her. She liked both of them men: They did not seem like evil people – but she reminded herself that these men planned on killing everyone she knew… There was only one thing she could do to save them and all of France.

The men had come out of their secret room and separated ways immaterially. Now Orchid knew exactly what she ad to do: All the training she had taken to become a "lady" would be needed today.

"When the two of you argue the whole country side must hear. I am surprised that I am not rescued yet."

"You know that we would be more careful than that. We have explained how important our mission is many times." The shorter man said each word in exasperation. He had already argued with his co-worker and he did not want to argue with her. She knew that she was pressing her luck but Orchid knew that if she did not finish what she started then it would never get done.

"You know, I heard the argument and I agree with you." The man glared at her with suspicion in his squinted eyes. "I am not sure what you were arguing about," she quickly explained, "but I have lived in court long enough to recognize a good speaker when I hear him and I know that you can out-argue your partner any day." The two of them smiled at each other and Orchid knew that now was the time for the killing blow. "Watch out though. Your partner came out of the room with a clenched fist. My father always told me that a man is hiding something when he leaves an argument like that. An honest man would have spoken his mind and his fist would be relaxed."

The man's eyes widened and Orchid new that she had hit her target when she had told him about the fist. The vast majority of people left a fight without saying all they wanted and with a clinched fist. Of course, no one could prove the two were connected – it was just a nice coincidence but Orchid acted as if it was a fact. One man had fallen victim to her "ways" only one more to go!

She kept her eyes open for the taller man. Orchid shifted her wait in her chair, hoping that he would happen her way soon. She was tied to the chair and could not go to the men. She had to wait for them to come to her and she was getting very impatient. She counted the tiles on the ceiling and gone through all the rhythms and poems she knew. Neither man had shown up. After what seemed like hours the other man had arrived with her meal. Now was the time to talk with him because she knew that the opportunities were few and far between.

He untied her hands and placed a bowl of hot liquid in her hand. She felt the heat radiate through her whole body. She smiled up at him and said, "You have always been so kind to me. He was wrong about you."

"What are you talking about? Who was wrong about me?"

"Your partner… who else could be in here for me to talk about? He said that you were nothing but a coward and an ill-minored man. I can see that he was wrong. Actions speak louder than words." At that, the tall man started to walk away. Her plan had worked just as she had expected: both men hated each other and trust and comradely were no longer part of the picture.

Finding What Was Lost

Briane saw his father and happiness rushed into him. He had been looking for him for months but doubt silently filled his mind. Was the being before him his father or the beast that had overtaken his body? It could be one of Jose's tricks… Why was that man trying to trick everyone? Was there some kind of special thing that was trying to get them to do? Jose was not a real human – he was a being without a heart but double the greed to make up for it. He seemed to hate life and everything that had any part of it. So, yes, he hated all living things. Braine knew this because he saw the glint of hate in the evil man's eyes when he looked at a smile or laughing person. The glint of hate disappeared with a flash of malice every time he saw a person who was sad or crying. Jose wanted to hurt every person in the world – he was that cruel – and Briane knew that he and his father were not excluded from the list even though they did work for the monster. Jose was only out to help himself and Briane knew that. He had spent months trying to tell his father that the man was evil.

He would have to try and explain it again now before the thing immerged from its' hiding place inside of Kyle. Kyle turned towards Briane with passion in his eyes. It was not the passion of a madman but the passion of a parent who had been looking for their lost child in a crowd of people. Braine felt confidence surge up in him as he saw his father slowly walk closer and closer to him with steps that were both heavy with weariness and light with joy.

"Father, what trick has Jose tried to play on you? He would not help when I told him that you were not yourself?"

Kyle opened his mouth to answer his son but no words came out. He began to make a gasping, gulping sound deep within his throat. Braine ran to him, thinking that the sickness was coming on again as it had in the woods. He prayed that he would be able to help in some way instead of being a hindrance as he had in those same woods. He saw the expression of agony on his father's face with more and more clarity as he ran closer and closer. He knew that his father needed him and that he wanted to be there to help his father more than he had ever wanted anything else.

Unfortunately, Kyle also remembered what had happened in the woods. He remembered that he could not control his own body and that he had nearly killed his own son. He could not go through that torture again. He turned and ran away from his son as quickly as he could. The child did not deserve to go through all of that again. Braine knew why his father was leaving. He knew that he was ashamed of what he had done but Briane also knew that he shouldn't have to be. So, the big room was forgotten and he set off to follow his father.

The Hunt

Bartholomew stood in the cool evening light next to his mentor. They were both still cooling down from the fight they had had earlier that day but they still agreed that they needed to put all of that aside and work together for the greater good. Both men were pig-headed and could not believe that there was a better or different way to get to do anything besides what he had mentioned. They did not think that the other should be upset because they think that they are right.

Bart tried to concentrate but he was still stewing over what the mentor had said. He knew that he and the old man needed to at least attempt at getting along for Orchid and all of France's sake but he could not shake the feeling that there was a simpler way to finish all of this. Then, he saw his way out: the little boy from that day he was riding with Orchid… The one who had needed help. This boy could be the key to finding what was behind all of the trouble: the unrest and the girl herself. This could all be part of Jose's scheme! The best thing for him to do would be to follow the boy. He would surely find his father who would be with Jose.

Bartholomew looked at his mentor: the man was looking the opposite direction of the child. He was determined…but tired. Maybe it would be better to leave the old man here. He would only argue with him and say that the plan was as tight as it could be. If he wanted to get to Orchid before Jose did something to her, now was the time to act and follow the boy.

Bartholomew moved quickly and silently through the grass, moving closer and closer to the line of trees where the boy had disappeared at when he ran after his father. Bart sighed with regret: the boy really shouldn't be involved in this… He was too young to fully understand what was happening between these political groups. He was a mere pawn that both sides used to play – he regretted that he would have to use the boy in such a way but it could not be helped when the world was at stake. If France fell, then the rest of Europe would not be far behind. Spain may think that they could rule the world but in truth, they could not even control a colony of savages.

Jose had to be stopped and the boy was the only link he had to the illusive man. He followed as closely as he dared. Bart knew that little Briane had not love for Jose but he was sure that the boy would be protective of his father. If he thought that the link his father had with Jose would lead to his demise, he might try to lead Bart away from the pair in order to save his father. He could understand the boy's apprehension but there was no time to explain the situation fully.

The sun seemed to get dimmer and dimmer as they traveled deeper and deeper into the brush and twigs dug into the sensitive skin of his knees. The darkness made it harder to see the boy and the pain in his knees distracted him but the sound of Kyle's heavy breathing lead him to the north – towards a clearing surrounded by Evergreens.

Kyle stood in the center of the clearing with his arms stretched out and a small smile on his face. He seemed to be the only person there but Bart crept closer. He hoped that the two of them had not leaded him to the clearing for no reason. That did not seem to be the case: Kyle's smile was one of purpose. Determination sparkled in his eyes and brightened his face and smile. The man had a reason to be there. Only one person in all of France knew what that reason was but Bart was determined to find out the reason and become the second person in all of France to learn the secret.

He crawled to the left where Braine was also lying in the grass. He was so close that he could touch the boy but the child did not seem to see him. Braine stared straight ahead and looked directly at his father at all times. The boy almost seemed hypnotized. Bartholomew reached out to touch the boy and hoped that he was merely distracted but such was not the case. He gripped the boy's soldier and shook him gently. He whispered his name over and over but the child never answered or even looked in his direction.

"Briane, I know that your father is working for Jose and that they have gotten themselves into trouble." Braine's head never moved but his eyes moved towards Bart when he mentioned his father. Since Bart knew that he had Briane's attention, he continued: "I want to help get your father out of it but I need your help. Can you tell me where to find Don Jose?"

"The Don is not here," answered a deep voice behind the pair of them. Bartholomew tried to turn but large feet landed onto his back with great force before he had a chance to even get a look.

Finding the Truth in Light

The heeled shoes dug into Bart's back but he fought to get to his feet when Braine started to scream. Another man twisted the boy's arms behind him and lifted him off of the ground kicking. Braine's legs pumped the air, searching for a target in their captor's stomach.

"Stop fighting and he we may not have to hurt your friends," the man said in a slow, patient voice. Briane seemed to not hear any of the man's words: he continued to kick and scream at the air in hopes of landing a hit. The man who held him rolled his eyes and knew that the only way to show the boy how serious the situation had become was to act.
He stepped over Bart and towards the boy's father. He still stood in the center of the clearing with his arms raised. "The master no longer needs his puppet," the man holding Briane declared as he drew a knife from his jacket sleeve. He poised the knife point at Kyle's soldier and held it still. "Should I make it quick and painless or slow and agonizing?"

Now Briane was paying attention. He stopped moving his legs and was so shocked that he stopped breathing. Once he found his voice again, he started yelling to the men. "Don't hurt him! I just want to take him home! No one needs to get hurt."

Briane's speech was just the distraction Bart needed. He moved his left hand to the foot on his back and pulled his elbow back as far as he could. The deep-voiced man fell and Bart jumped to his feet. "Just let us leave and there will be no trouble." He produced a knife of his own from his boot and held it to the man's throat.

The man holding Briane laughed and moved the knife closer to the now still Kyle. "Do you think that we care about death? We are alive for one thing: the cause and we will die for it!" Fire burned in the man's eyes as he spoke and Bart knew better than to doubt him.

"There is no reason for the boy to stay here. No one will believe him if he tries to bring back help. Let him go and I will release your friend."

It seemed that Bart and the man had come to an agreement. The man set Briane down and Bart lowered his knife. Suddenly, the man grabbed the boy again. Every muscle in Bart's body tensed even though the man spoke in a calm voice "Set your knife on the ground. Then we will let the boy go." Bartholomew was suspicious but he did as he was told and placed the knife on the damp floor beneath him.

Briane's feet were moving before he was placed on the ground. He was nearly past Bartholomew when he stopped dead in his tracks. Don Jose stood directly in front of him.

"How nice to see you both," the Don purred looking from Kyle to Bartholomew quickly. "I was not sure if you would come in time to see me get my new title."

"You won't be getting a title once the king sees what is going on." Bartholomew felt like he had to speak with extra boldness and courage. The poor boy standing next to him looked terrified and Bart felt like he would find courage himself if he were just reminded of the fear the Don had. Showing courage reveals fear and apprehension in others. Unfortunately, Jose was used to dealing with mind games and he was not going to help either of his "guests" by playing their games. He was tired of playing nice at court as it was.

Jose gestured to the two men with a jerking motion in his soldier. They quickly moved to bind Bartholomew. He began to resist but the fact that he no longer had a knife made the binding go over very quickly. The monster inside of Kyle was fully awakened – he had no will of his own and Jose enjoyed watching for the silent cries for help Kyle gave when he was forced to keep in his own son in the mouth of danger.

"Why don't you two bring our guests into the parlor to meet the Lady of honor?" Jose may have asked a question but there was no doubt from his tone that it was an order. He wore a wicked smile on his face with both corners of his mouth turned upwards in a wicked twirl.

With those words, both Bart and Briane were quickly brought into a damp stable. There were no horses but it was evident that fresh hay had been laid on the floor. The two of them started to wonder at this after Jose and his two lackeys had left with Kyle when they heard the rustle of silk in the far corner. A dainty foot, clad in delicate slippers stepped into the small ray of light that crept in from the cracks in the eastern wall.

"Orchid?" whispered Bartholomew with a breath of awe in his voice. Orchid was about to answer but she was silenced when Braine rushed forward and hugged her.

"My Lady, everyone at the house thought that you were gone forever. I told them that you would never leave without saying goodbye." Orchid looked down at the small boy and smiled. It was good to feel a gentle touch again… It had been so long. The straw around Bartholomew rustled as he struggled to get closer. Orchid looked up at Bartholomew as her eyes adjusted to the dimness and saw that he could not move. His hands and feet were bound. She knew that he could not move to her so she moved to him.

The men may look like innocent farmers but they knew their trade well: They could tie knots better than any sailor and they knew their codes better than any spy. They were the worst type of men to have as enemies. Their manic energy was all placed on following Jose's every order and as crazy as they were, Jose was ten times as crazy. Orchid had been in the stable for days but she had held onto the hope that she would be rescued. Now, her rescuers were trapped just as she was. There was nothing left to hold onto.

She began to cry as she gripped Bart's soldiers. "Did he hurt you?" Bart asked behind clinched teeth. Orchid opened her mouth to answer but she was unable to speak because the small stable filled with light as the double doors swung open. Jose and the two men stood in the door way but only Jose walked into the now bright stable.

Jose walked to Orchid and took her hand. "The king has given his consent for us to marry."

"You may have been able to trick the king but I know you well enough to see that we could never marry. I can barely stand being in the same room with you!"

Orchid was breathless and her face was growing pale. It was obvious that the news had upset her even though she tried at act nonchalant. "Most nobles can be persuaded through black mail. My associates here searched for something on you but we could not find any secrets… Only a few soft spots."

Orchid gasped as Jose grew a knife and moved towards Bartholomew and Briane. The Don laughed at her shock as his two henchmen spoke. "We were hoping that you would do as you were told without this kind of force but the master insisted that you would need persuasion."

"You and I are going back to Court with Louis' blessing. You will agree to marry me and stand by my side as I explain our reasons for running away to the court. As my obedient wife, you will agree to everything I say in the court when its' members ask if it is true." Jose paused for effect. He lifted Orchid's chin up so that he could see her eyes. The Don wanted to make sure that his three captives were listening and that he had their full attention. "If you refuse to do any of these things, I will make your friends here regret it."

He let Orchid's head drop and turned to Briane. "I think that his fingers should be the first to go. Maybe I could even have his own father remove them. Do you want to see any child go through that?"

Orchid was sobbing now but she managed to shake her head.

"Than you agree to these terms?" He asked as his evil grin widened.

Orchid managed a weak nod through her tears but Jose insisted on hearing the words. "Yes, I agree," was all the reply she could manage.

"Good. Now that the unpleasantries are over, we can move to more important business. I see the three of you already know each other." Jose walked up to the threesome with a smile on his face. He put his large hand on Orchid's soldiers and continued: "Or at least you think you know each other." He began to laugh and gestured to the tall man who had held Briane.

"We expect that you will recognize this." He held out a small silver pocket watch in front of Bartholomew's face.

Bartholomew nodded and the man continued with another nod from Jose. "A family heirloom, I am sure." Bart nodded again. "This watch does not have a seal or crest. What noble family are you from again?"

Jose broke in and stepped forward before Bart could defend himself. The clap from the slap that Jose had given Bart rang in the stable as he continued to accuse and discredit Bart. "You are not from a noble family. You are not even from France! Luckily, the king trusted my judgment when I brought your traitorous parents before the court. I doubt that you will ever see them again."

Bartholomew saw nothing but red as the world moved in slow motion and he jumped off of the ground and wrapped his bound arms around Jose's throat. The two bodies fell to the ground with a loud thumb as they rolled through the strewn ground. The two henchmen came to their master's aid and Kyle made it to his side with almost inhuman speed.

Kyle's body moved faster than the steamed trains or the fastest horse. He had Bart off of his master in a manner of seconds. Briane gripped Orchid's hand as they both looked on with tear-stained faces.

"How should we punish him, Master?" The tall man asked.

"She has agreed to cooperate. He is no longer needed. The child will serve as a motivation for her to continue her part in our act."

"You can't hurt him!" Orchid cried out to the surprise of them all. "We agreed that if I cooperated he and Briane would not be harmed. If you go back on your end of our deal that is to say that I will not go back on mine?"

"My dear lady, he will not come to harm!" All eyes stayed on Jose as he spoke, waiting for his next order or summons. "We are only going to give him a pump on the head.

Bartholomew had no time to react before pain seared behind his eyes and the world went black. His consciousness went in and out. He swore he could hear Orchid crying and for a second he thought that he heard the slosh of water as he fell onto the hard ground before falling to blackness once more.