Looking Through Fresh Eyes 8: Your Eyes Have Shifted From Me

(Tying up a dangling loose end left hanging at the end of Nature Studies)

More than one fan has pleaded with me to continue this story... how could I not... Episode Eight: consequences after breaking the rules. This episode's theme tune: an obscure but atmospheric collaboration between the Punk Poetess Patti Smith and those funster goth-rockers, the Blue Öyster Cult. And, I also discovered, to Marvel superhero comics.

A long one, and hopefully packed with intrigue as well as differing attitudes to crime and punishment among teaching Assassins.


Catherine got up in the morning and sighed, philosophically. She had every expectation that her missing cloak would be discovered and the discoverers would put two and two together, arriving at the expected four. It was most likely still at the scene of the crime, if it hadn't already been discovered. And it very helpfully had C. Perry-Bowen, Black Widow House sewn onto the nametape. It wouldn't take the Cable Street Particulars to work out the association.

Still, it was worth it...

Her dorm mates did not blame her for having landed everybody in trouble. They'd all agreed they were in it together, and besides, Gareth ffitz was regarded as cute and a desirable catch, so everybody wanted to hear the dirty details. It was worth a group shouting-at from Madame Two-Swords. Who was known to be lenient on girls who entered into fumbling inexperienced embarrassment-laden affaires with boys.

The girls of Five Black Widow went through their morning ablutions, prepared for the expected group sanction, and speculating on what form it would take. Their teachers all had inventive and terrible punishments for girls who stepped out of line. Miss Smith-Rhodes was known to send offenders on fatigue assignments at the Palace Menagerie, where she advised the Patrician on care of the animals. Bad girls were issued a wheelbarrow and a shovel and directed to the elephant house. Really bad girls were assigned to Acerian Skunks. Miss Band sent you on the feared Vimes Run. Nobody escaped unscathed from a mission to target Sam Vimes. Miss Sanderson-Reeves assigned you to clean ovens in DomSci. Miss Lansbury, the art mistress, had you grinding ingredients for her special paintboxes. Doctor Bellamy sent you on pruning duties. With plants that fought back. (1)

Nobody knew what Madame Two-Swords did by way of special punishment. The issue had never been explored before; while she was generally lenient and easy-going, discipline in her House was respected by the girls and nobody had been caught out before doing anything seriously bad that required exceptional punishment. There was a rumour that she'd once lost patience with a pupil who was being over-confident and had sent them to the University, with a request note to the Arch-Chancellor that this student be allowed to research possible candidates for the Teatime Prize (for best theoretical plan to inhume a supernatural or magically-guarded entity). (2)

"Well," remarked Maddy Selachii, as they washed and cleaned teeth, "We're about to find out, I think."

Chakkie N'Golate grinned, exposing her fabulous even white teeth. More dentally-challenged girls envied her those teeth. Matron Igorina used her as the poster-girl for dental excellence.

"Well, Cathy can perhaps fill us in on some of the details while we wait!" she said. "Come on, Catherine. Make it worth our while!"

Catherine grinned. Although she wasn't wholly comfortable, she realised a deal was a deal and she needed her friends' goodwill. Whilst describing some of the action and embellishing it slightly, she wondered why she was getting so pragmatic all of a sudden. The person she'd been before the urban safari would have blushed bright red and maybe even chickened out of meeting Gareth on the rooftop for fear of the consequences. Now here she was, giving them what they wanted to hear in the wash-room...


An hour or so earlier, Emmanuelle les Deux-Epées had forced herself to get out of bed, although left to herself she would happily have slept in. She wondered if she would be invited to the Master's office to offer her thoughts on the previous night. Yawning, she reasoned that she had probably succeeded in getting Catherine back to her dorm undetected, and that the foolish girl had escaped with more luck than she deserved. Which meant she could handle the disciplinary aspects internally and discreetly, in a strictly off-the-record sort of way. But any girl who can evade the roof guards – Assassin roof guards - even when they know she is there as an intruder, has a special aptitude. More and more Catherine is emerging as a starred pupil, even if the ways she applies her skills are not always permitted or sensible ones. But how to punish her?

She washed, using the shock of cold water to wake herself up, then dressed for Swords practice. It would be good to discreetly ask a few questions and assure herself of a few things.

Pre-breakfast Swords practice was a strictly voluntary thing. By arrangement, other teachers and graduate Assassins joined her for refresher lessons, or just to practice their skills under her critical eye. She did not do this every day, by any means, but it was a good exercise to start the day with. Walking unhurriedly over to the Arena, she exchanged good morning greetings with other early risers and even had a quiet conversation with the outgoing night porter. This gave her some valuable information. (3)

"Terrible, monsieur Stippler. And they have not found her yet and her identity is un-known? If it turns out to have been one of my girls, what can I say? Girls, as they say, will be girls. I shall ask questions and observe. But they made extra work for you, and that is not acceptable. No doubt the other Housemistresses will be made aware?"

"His Lordship the Master prepared brief notes for you and your colleagues, Madame." Stippler replied. "They were to go to you with the morning mail, but it hasn't arrived yet... wait a tick, I'll fetch yours. They all say the same, anyway."

Emmanuelle smiled. She knew the porters could get curious. The note, when it arrived, very curtly summed up the night's events and asked the Housemistresses to be vigilant and observant so that the female culprit might be identified and disciplined. There were no names mentioned and no talk of any suspects.

She thanked him, remembering to offer a donation to the Porters' Holiday Fund out of largesse, and Mr Stippler went off shift, oddly bucked up to have received a cheerful smile and the personal attention of one of the more easy-on-the-eye Ladies. Her attention had made him keener to furnish information to her. She smiled. Men were often so keen to be helpful to her.

She wasn't totally surprised that Baron Streifenkanen was present for a practice bout. He bowed courteously to her, and asked if he could have the honour of a practice session, so as to loosen up his old bones. Emmanuelle returned the compliment, and the two sparred with increasing vigour for fifteen minutes. While the Baron was at least a foot taller and immensely physically strong, his approach to sword-fighting was an unsubtle frontal attack designed to rush the opponent into quick submission. Unintimidated, Emmanuelle knew her best tactic was to use superior skill, speed and agility to contain the onslaught, reserving offensive strokes for when her giant opponent was tiring. It was no match, and the Baron conceded defeat, saluting her with his sword and bowing formally.

"As always, an educative event, Madame. My thanks!"

"You very nearly had me in the first minute, Herr Baron." she replied, truthfully. "As your tutor in these matters, I advise you work on your stamina so that a fight you do not win early does not develop into a combat of attrition that wears you down. As you saw, I chose to highlight your weaknesses and play on them, so as to alert you to what you most decidedly require to work on."

"Most salutary, madame." he thanked her. He moved in closer. His voice lowered. "You may have heard about last night's regrettable incident? I was roused from my bed at one to speak to a student."

"From your fifth form, I would assume?" Emmanuelle said, in a similarly lowered voice.

"The one of whom you spoke, ja." he said. "I strongly suspect the other one whom we discussed may also have been involved."

"That is perhaps the case." she replied, looking up to the gallery to see if anyone was observing. "What has been said to the young man?"

"The Master was inclined to leniency." the Baron said. "The young gentleman is to receive a final warning letter advising him that any repetition or other serious offence will be rewarded with expulsion. As he clearly has spare time and surplus energy to burn, I am instructed to find him things to do with that spare time that burn the surplus energy in more profitable ways. I am also gating him. He will not be able to leave the Guild gates for a period of one month."

"That is very much how I would choose to deal with things myself, were one of my girls to have disgraced herself in such a way." she said, choosing her words with care. "It is perhaps the case that things are said in Necros that we do not hear, and plans are made under the influence of coffee that we are not intended to be privy to."

"Indeed so, Madame. You will be concerned that the identity of the girl in question remains a mystery. I myself took the view that anything I may have heard, however reliable the source, is not proof but hearsay and conjecture. Therefore I would not have damned a possible innocent by speaking any name I have heard in passing, in connection with such a scheme. And Miss Wiggs, who made the detention of my pupil, pronounced herself baffled as to the girl's identity, except to say it could have been one of forty-eight current fifth-form pupils."

"Of whom I am responsible for twelve." Emmanuelle said, thoughtfully. "I know them all by name – Chaka, Madeleine, Samantha, Margaret, Catherine, Belinda, Jennifer, Denise and four others. I concede at least five would be bright enough to attempt such a thing. I shall speak to them all."

The Baron's eyes, when she said "Catherine", had told her what was left unspoken. They understood each other.

"One last thing, Madame. Sword practice is strenuous and tires people. You also have an agreement with the armourers that they find heavy unskilled work for pupils given detention and work fatigues. With this in mind, may I send Gareth ffitzroy-Connor to you?"

"You may, with pleasure, Herr Baron. Advise him to come and see me in Black Widow House School Office in perhaps an hour. We will discuss options for the best use of his spare time, now he is confined to School."

The Baron again saluted with his sword, clicked his heels in the Überwaldean manner, and took his leave. Emmanuelle smiled. She and the Baron had completely understood each other. And it appeared Catherine had chosen an admirable and dependable young man. He had not been so abominable as to betray her, even under pressure. Bon, she could be generous to him in return. Maybe not too much lifting of heavy barrels of arrows and crossbow bolts. Lighter, more amenable, work in his detentions, perhaps. Ready ammunition stocks were stored in the roofspace, in the event of the Guild premises coming under prolonged siege. This had been introduced shortly after the Klatchian invasion plan had been revealed. (4) Had Gareth betrayed Catherine's name, Emmanuelle would have had him carrying the heaviest possible barrels and boxes, without cease, from the lowest Armoury to the highest tower. But he hadn't. She knew when to be gracious.

Another member of staff had turned up for a practice session. It was her colleague Johanna Smith-Rhodes. Emmanuelle had a request to make. Unhappily, it involved extra work for Johanna, but a friend may ask a favour of a friend, hmm?

Johanna read the overnight memo from Downey, and winced.

"I hope it wesn't one of mine." she said. "If it was, I would kick her guava all the way to Howondaland. End when she lended on the Veldt she would find me elready there, waiting to kick her straight beck egain!"

"Happily for you, chere amie, I am in a position to reassure you the delinquent in question was not one of your pupils."

Johanna gave her old friend a sympathetic and understanding look.

"End you require my help."

"I do. We can speak of this after we practice."

Johanna's preferred bladed weapon was one which caused Emmanuelle to wince. The Howondalandian jungle machete was superbly adapted for agricultural use. Nothing could cut through sugar cane like it. It was the indispensable friend to the adventurer in the jungle as its combination of balanced weight and sharp blade could hack a path through trackless jungle. The weapon could also make short work of inconvenient limbs and necks, even ones protected by armour. The Zulu tribal enemy had even imitated the weapon, after being on the receiving end of what it could do. Their version was called the iklwa.

Emmanuelle knew all this. She saw part of her job as weaning Howondalandian pupils off their cultural weapons, which, as a formal swordswoman with a Central Continent background, she viewed as lacking in style and grace. Whether you called it an iklwa or a machete, it was still nothing more, to her eyes, than a large metal club with a sharp edge. She also strongly suspected Johanna would dutifully demonstrate ability with the formal sabre, rapier and epée, only to leave them at home in her weapons rack and take her trusty machete out on assignments with her. But you still had to try...

They sparred with the Central Continent rapier for a few rounds. Johanna Smith-Rhodes would rate as above-average with this weapon, but she was still no match for Emmanuelle in her speciality, and both women knew it.

After a while Johanna courteously received the frank assessment that she was so keen on attack that she tended to neglect her defence. She must be continually on guard, or even a weak attack could get through and inflict damage. Also, a rapier is a weapon of finesse. You could slash and hack with it, but the effect would be weak as the weapon only has a sharp point. It is not designed to take an edge and may break if swung too hard.

"Do not treat all swords as if they were the machete, chere amie." Emmanuelle advised her. "There are subtleties of use. In our next private session, I shall watch to see if you have improved on these points."

Johanna thanked her.

"And the favour you want?"

Emmanuelle told her. Johanna smiled and agreed. Even though it meant more work for her.


Gareth fiftzroy-Connor knocked, with trepidation, at the door of Black Widow House. There were seriously strict rules about male pupils entering female Houses. And vice-versa. After last night, this might be misunderstood. Even though he had permission to enter, which gave him a limited free pass. He stood back and allowed the senior girl who answered to frown and look him up and down. She wore the Head of House sash.

"Baron Striefenkanen, my House master, has arranged for me to see Madame Deux-Epées on a School-related matter." he said to her. "She is expecting me."

The girl, who had a tall, thin, etiolated look, tilted her head and looked down flared nostrils at him as if he were the source of a bad smell. She nodded and bade him follow her.

The Housemistress's office was just inside the doorway. It was accepted that a female House teacher could, if she so chose, receive male pupils here. It was one of the very, very, few exception clauses in the "strictly no male students in designated female areas" school rule.

He half hoped and half feared that he'd see Catherine. In the event, he was disappointed. He had not been waiting for too long when the Head of House ushered him inside. Madame was sitting behind her desk, impeccably dressed, and reading the morning mail. Gareth gulped. Like most male pupils, he found her to be intimidatingly attractive. (5) The alternative was that creepy stuffed...thing... some sort of killer ape, Gareth supposed. At least Madame's fangs and talons were sheathed and she was easier on the eye.

She looked up.

"Thank you, Catharine." she said. "You may leave. Please be so kind as to prepare café au lait? Bring two cups, s'il tu plait. Merci."

The tall thin girl left. Gareth irrelevantly pondered the irony of her also being a Catherine, but with-an-a, and also being almost completely unattractive to him. And then Madame was appraising him silently. He found it hard to meet her eyes. Damn, they were so like Cathy's! Practically identical. Same odd colour, not quite green, not quite blue. Even down to the slightly heavy, hooded, eyelids... It was a disconcertingly odd coincidence.

"Bon." she said, curtly. "Be seated."

She indicated the chair on the other side of the desk. Gareth sat, but was still on his guard. Madame Two-Swords remained silent, continuing his appraisal of him. He recognised this as a standard intimidation tactic used by authority figures, to impress that they had the upper hand. It did not make it any less scary.

"I apologise for being a little late for our meeting. I took an early class in swords training. I considered it would have been most impolite to have attended for this meeting in an unwashed and sweating condition."

"It is a lady's prerogative to be fashionably late, Madame." Gareth said. Inside, he was wondering what her sweat smelt like from this close. He felt a little cheated that all he was getting was an exquisitely chosen Quirmian perfume.

She frowned at him, and then allowed herself to smile.

"You have a certain roguish charm, mon brave." she said. "This perhaps explains much about a certain situation you were discovered in last night."

She knows. Damn.

"The Baron attended my class this morning. Several times a week, I am available for refresher classes for other members of School staff and graduate Assassins. It is a service I provide. And also an opportunity for discreet chats with fellow staff members who wish to discuss sensitive subjects with me."

She let this sink in, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on them. It managed to evoke Vetinari's steepling of the fingers whilst adding a definite feminine touch.

"The Herr Baron confided in me as to what happened last night, as well as the punishment decided to be appropriate for your breach of School rules. Ah, merci, Catharine! No, I shall pour. You are dismissed."

As the tall thin girl left the room, Madame was pouring coffee. She politely passed the first poured cup to Gareth.

"Merci, madame." he said. He had watched her hands as she poured. She wore no rings, apart from a simple plain wedding band. She had not palmed anything. And besides, her speciality was not poisoning. This was not Lady T'Malia offering you a refreshing soothing drink. He judged it safe to drink and accepted without hesitation.

Emmanuelle watched him. She sensed the thoughts going through his head, and resisted an impulse to laugh. She would let him sweat a little, she thought. She sipped her coffee.

"The Herr Baron is of a mind that you have too much energy and spare time. I have been asked to find methods of filling that time. In such a way that all you have the desire to do after lights-out is to sleep."

Gareth nodded, and sighed. He was rather afraid something like this would happen.

"After all, for at least one month, dependent on good behaviour, you are now confined to Guild premises. Alors, you no longer have the option of visiting fashionable coffee houses to converse freely with other students, away from the ears of your teachers. This frees up your time in the evenings and at weekends, and we have to consider how this may be best used. Do not look so glum, mon brave! Consider this an opportunity to apply yourself to your studies, away from external influences which have the danger of distracting you, so that your education suffers."

She allowed herself a smile. Gareth thought, in some indefinable way, this was worse than being grilled by the Master and Mr Nuggan. Male teachers were straightforwardly remorseless. And neither were as attractive to look at.

"I have reviewed your record in swords and bladed weapons. As you know, this is a core activity for student Assassins. You have done nothing in my classes which made you stand out, either for good or bad, and I have to admit I struggled to recall your name and face. That is not meant to be negative. It is merely an observation. I do understand you have a liking for the Agatean long sword, and my colleague Koucouchou-San considers you to be an able pupil in the disciplines she teaches. Also, you like to work with pole-arms and staff weapons rather than swords. Every Assassin has his preferences. I propose to speak to our resident sensei concerning additional lessons in Agatean pole-arm disciplines. She considers you to be above-average and a pleasant pupil to work with. Also, I know myself that use of the naginata is physically demanding. An hour or so of work with this and similar weapons each day will build your muscle strength and upper body as well as tiring you for your bed. Also, your record suggests that Miss Band believes you have aptitude for edificeering. Additional classes here will not harm you. And she leads regular night classes in edificeering which means that you will have legitimate cause to be on the School roof after dark. Perhaps even in the company of female students, but not even my colleague Mr Moody could complain about this, as you will be supervised at all times. Miss Band, at her personal discretion, also leads classes out into the City. The ban on leaving the Guild gates may be relaxed for you, if it is a legitimate part of your education."

Emmanuelle smiled. The primly officious Mr Moody would hit the roof when he heard of this. She had no time for him, especially after he had caused her additional paperwork with a formal complaint against Catherine Perry-Bowen, which had resulted in Catherine getting black marks on her permanent record. And that was another thing to consider. Another formal disciplinary case, so soon after the last one, with the same member of staff involved on both occasions. Not good for Catherine.

She knew Moody would get to hear of this and would view it as deliberate insult. Très bien. She noted the boy was suppressing a grin, as if the same sort of thought had occurred to him.

Gareth realised this might not be as bad as he thought. The crazy idea occurred to him that Madame Two-Swords was, in some subtle way, on his side. He considered this. The Herr Baron, when he had ordered Gareth to report to her for interview, had added, mysteriously, You will discover her to be a pleasant and honourable woman who will deal fairly with you. Do not forget to be fully dressed in school uniform. It is a courtesy to Madame to dress impeccably. You have a regrettable tendency to forget your cloak. The Baron had paused for a moment, as if in thought. You will also discover how far you can trust her. Treat it as an exercise in presenting yourself acceptably and in making the correct decisions quickly and well. Accept her good judgement. That is all.

"I understand the young lady involved in your escapade last night evaded detention." Madame said, apropos of nothing. "I also heard that you refused to divulge her name, thus risking heavier punishment."

Gareth recalled that he was in the presence of Catherine's House Tutor. His eyes flickered for an instant. Madame appeared not to notice, but he wasn't fooled. If I confirm it to her, she will have to punish Cathy. That's her role. It's expected of her. But on the other hand, she's hinted that discipline may not be as by-the-book and inflexible as people like Mr Nuggan want it to be. If I mention Cathy's name... is this what the Baron meant by "how far can I trust her?"

"Should the young lady turn out to be from my House," Madame said, testing him, "I would be distressed at her bad behaviour and the inconvenience to which she has put others. But it is also true she put her education to very good use and remembered the greatest rule of all. Thou Shalt Not Get Caught. And she was not caught. I am but a simple-minded Quirmian country girl."

Gareth tried not to let his face show scepticism. Madame was Quirmian, yes.

"But I think. If a girl has shown endeavour, and cunning, and style, even in a breach of the rules, and gets away with it, and runs as free as the NacMacFeegle even though they are the most cunning race on this Disc and will steal anything. (6) It is not for her to confess her guilt. It is for us to establish her guilt. That is fair. I might speak privately to such a one and enforce an informal sanction because no crime should escape punishment. But it will not be official."

Gareth made a decision.

"Madame, I believe I understand you."

He unhooked the outer of the two cloaks he was wearing and folded it up, placing it on the desk. Madame raised an eyebrow.

"I did wonder why you were wearing two cloaks. It is not so cold a day outside, although it threatens rain."

"It belongs to a member of your House, Madame. Catherine Perry-Bowen. I found it, read the nametape on the inside, and thought while I was here I should return an item of lost property."

Emmanuelle not only smiled, she allowed a grin to cross her face.

"Formidable! And you are not prepared to say where you found this cloak, which you are so courteously returning?"

"No, Madame." Gareth's voice was firm.

Emmanuelle nodded.

"I am sure Catherine will be pleased to see this again. She will, no doubt, express her gratitude to you in some seemly manner." she said. "It is in a dirty and dusty condition, I note. The dust on the outside has the slightly green colour of the patina to be found, say, in a high place where copper and lead are used to retain roof tiles. But then, I am sure she picked this up while edificeering. I will strongly advise her to launder it. As you should do with your own, which has the same markings."

"I thank you for your concern, Madame."

They paused, understanding each other's position.

"And it is nearly time for breakfast. I am sure the Master will be restating the school rules concerning being absent from your dormitory after dark in the company of pupils of the opposite sex. Something to look forward to. For all of us. This interview is at an end, mr ffitzroy-Connor. Thank you for your time and understanding."

"A pleasure, Madame," Gareth assured her.


Madame had been waiting while her girls assembled in the yard for the short walk to the dining hall. It seemed that everyone knew something of what had happened during the night. The first year girls were giggly and giddy, the fourth years suppressing smirks, the seniors outwardly calm and haughty. In a place like this, rumours spread quickly.

Cathy and her friends in adversity waited in a small group, the subject of curious eyes, whilst Madame Two-Swords clapped them all to attention.

"Attention! Are all present? We are attending for School assembly. Therefore I require you all to be serious and to countenance yourselves correctly that includes YOU, miss Simmonds!,where the Master will haveadmonishments to impart which you are all advised to listen to. School rules were breached last night. The Master is not amused and he will be speaking most severely. Comport yourselves appropriately and reflect that the comfort of breakfast will be served after Assembly and morning prayers. All fifth-form girls, and be assured that means all, will present themselves in my office immediately after breakfast."

Emmanuelle was aware of a sympathetic look from Miss Alice Band, who was marshalling her Tump House girls for Assembly. She took this as her cue.

"No presumptions should be drawn from this by other girls. Do you hear me, miss Courtney? As I am certain my colleagues will also have reason to speak privately to their senior girls. I will tolerate no gossip nor any aspersions. Thank you. Now in orderly groups Do not run! Make your way to the Hall. Marchez!"

Catherine was aware, in the background, of Miss Band raising her voice very slightly and telling her fifth form girls to assemble separately after breakfast for a little pastoral chat. And then Black Widow House, in order of seniority, was filing meekly in for Assembly.

It was as much of an ordeal as Catherine had feared. Looking down the long table at the impassive face of Madame Two-Swords, she wondered if this was part of her punishment. The girls sat at a long table, in order of year, with senior girls nearest to the dais where the senior Masters and Dark Council members took table with their guests. As girl students were fairly new to the School and the first intake had only just got to Upper Sixth, Catherine was sitting nearer to the front than anonymity would have appreciated. She also noted that while, strictly speaking, Madame should have been in a fixed place of honour at the head of the table nearest the dais, in practice she chose to rotate randomly around the long table, one day eating informally among her second year girls, the next meal with the first years, the next with the Upper Sixth, and so on. Today she had chosen her fifth form. While she wasn't being so blatant as to sit opposite Catherine, she remained too close for comfort, three places down the dining table. None of the girls were completely happy about this. It somehow felt like subtle pressure being ratcheted on.

And there was a mood of suppressed excitement going round the whole School, or at least that half of it that mustered for First Breakfast that morning. The Hall was to small to take all the staff and students at once. Catherine was glad Ragineau's House was scheduled for second breakfast. She felt she would not have been able to resist looking for Gareth. And she'd bet the teaching staff would have been taking careful notice of who acknowledged his presence. She sighed. Of course, the cloak had been found and she was resigned to being sent up to the Master. She just hoped it would be soon, get it over with. But younger girls especially were scrutinising the older and trying to guess who had got away with it. A tale like that would be, in distorted form, all over the School by now.

The girls stood behind their chairs, awaiting permission to sit down. This could only be granted by the Master, or in his absence, one of the accepted deputy School heads, Lady T'Malia or Miss Sanderson-Reeves. Mr Moody sometimes deputed for the Master, but he was waiting, Nuggan-like, behind a seat at High Table. She felt his Nuggan-like little beady eyes passing regularly over the senior girls, scrutinising them in a very creepy way. She noted Chakkie N'Golante shudder slightly as his gaze caught hers.

A mental dialogue formed itself. A creep like Mr Nuggan would ask her straight out. No, he'd demand. "It was YOU, wasn't it? The black girl? Everybody knows you people have a natural advantage for moving at night! No wonder you evaded the guards... and if it wasn't you, girl, then WHO WAS IT? Tell us. And we may be lenient. We know more than you know.."

"I must be running a fever." Cathy thought. "Or else I wouldn't be thinking like this."

And then Lord Downey mounted the dais from a rear door. He looked as if his sleep had been interrupted. He certainly did not look happy.

"Remain standing." he instructed the nearly-whole School. "It will help you concentrate while I make my announcements to you all."

Cathy looked down the table. She noted lower-year girls longingly studying the bowls of cereal and jugs of cold fresh milk that had been laid out at intervals. Packs of yoghurts, one per student, had also been set out. The smells of a hot breakfast in preparation drifted through tantalisingly. The Guild of Assassins provided ample food to its students. And it was good quality, too(7): mealtimes were normally something to look forward to. But not this day.

Downey stalked to the front of the platform. He took his time addressing the silence of several hundred pupils who were all aware his body language said annoyed Headmaster looking to spread it about a bit. Lady T'Malia stood to one side and slightly behind, backing him up. The only noise to be heard was her corset creaking. Her face was impassive and inscrutable. Other members of teaching staff, the ones without House duties who sometimes took breakfast at work, lined the High Table. Cathy recognised Miss Lansbury (Art), Mr Mericet (Inimical Alchemy and Poisoning Strategies), Mr Nivor (Traps, Deadfalls and Edificeering), the Compte de Yoyo (Modern Languages and Outward Bound Exploration) and Herr Graumunchen (Überwaldean languages and Metalwork) among many others. None looked happy or relaxed.

"It appears," Downey said, gravely, "that we have had something of a breakdown in communications. This is regrettable."

He paused, scanning the Hall.

"I clearly recall that I stood here last week and gently, courteously even, reminded you all that being out after lights-out is a breach of School rules. Being out at night to pursue a romantic liaison with a pupil of the opposite sex is also a breach of school rules."

He heard a snigger – nerves, probably, thought Cathy – and turned in its direction.

"I'm so pleased you find it funny. Miss... Mawdrey-Sykes, isn't it? Because I certainly don't. Deal with her at your convenience, if you would be so good, Miss Smith-Rhodes. Thank you."

Catherine dared a glance. Johanna Smith-Rhodes was glaring furiously at one of Raven House's second-year pupils, who had gone bright scarlet.

Poor kid. I'm so glad it wasn't me. That kid is in trouble.

"I can now see I require to speak to you all more firmly." Downey continued. "Despite my stern warning, last night, two fifth-form pupils were discovered to have sneaked up onto the roof after lights-out. However they thought they were going to get away with it I do not know, as they were detained by our night security patrols. I do not appreciate being parted from my bed at one in the morning to deal with an avoidable security concern..."

Downey carried on like this for some time, elaborating on his theme, building his controlled anger in a masterly demonstration of Teacher's Boffo, elaborating on the risks of being caught by night security patrols who often had full permission to inhume, stressing the boy in the case had been severely spoken to, and even more securely punished...

Catherine winced. She suddenly felt a heel for having abandoned Gareth. Somewhere an impressionable first year pupil was biting back tears.

"Unhappily, we have not yet detained the girl, who got away. Investigations are continuing and we have narrowed it down to a shortlist of potential suspects."

Catherine was aware of Madame Two-Swords' eyes on her.

"While I am certain we will have established the other culprit's identity by bthe close of today, this is setting up extra work for us. Therefore I will state I am prepared to be more lenient if she chooses of her own free will to do the honourable thing and give herself up. Anyone?"

Catherine was tempted to end it all now and step out in front of the School. Anything to get it over with... it was tempting. She had a sudden vision of being weak and powerless and in the presence of a terrible Power that was actively looking for her. She looked at the black-robed Master and for some reason thought of rings. Then Samantha Demisage kicked her sharply on the ankle. She caught the very slightest hint of a shaken head from Madame Two-Swords.

I'd be betraying the other girls. And Madame went out of her way to cover for me too. Won't she get into trouble as well?

"Very well." Downey said. "If the young lady makes herself known to her Housemistress, this can be settled discreetly between ourselves. Make enquiries for me, please, House Mistresses? Thank you. And we can, I think, proceed to Breakfast. Be mindful of my words. And please be seated."


The twelve girls of Black wWdow's Fifth Form were made to wait at their House Mistress's convenience, as first Miss Alice Band of Tump House and then Miss Smith-Rhodes of Raven House went in to confer with Madame. It was known these three teachers, who had graduated together, were friends and a powerful force in Assassin circles if they chose to work together. They were planning something in there..

Sam Demisage grinned at Catherine.

"Sorry I had to kick you." she said. "But it looked like you might have weakened there. They're bastards when they pull that trick!"

"No offence taken." Catherine reassured her. Sam grinned.

"You've heard what they're saying? It's all over the school! Y.. Somebody... managed a Home Run last night. With all the guards alerted to look out for her! And seriously snogged a boy into the bargain! That girl is going to be a heroine!"

Catherine reflected. A Home Run was a coveted accolade. It involved leaving the School out night and returning undetected. There was no official prize except punishment, but it made you a hero, male or female, if you got away with it.

If.


Alice Band smiled sympathetically. Privately, she was glad it wasn't one of her girls, but she was still resolved to roast them all anyway, just to sweat them and dissuade them from trying to imitate. At present her fifth formers were assembled to sweat it out awaiting her return, and to wonder if it had been one of them.

"So between you, me and the hidden listening tube, Emmie, which of your girls was it?"

Emmanuelle sighed, and shrugged.

"I do not believe they have installed listening tubes. If only because several hundred people would be needed to listen and transcribe. Such a hidden facility requires organisation, and we would have heard of it by now!"

"Et home, we think of them es Big Brothers who are merely concerned for our welfare." Johanna said. "When the Bureau of State Security considers it worthwhile to listen end eavesdrop, we joke ebout Big Brother listening to us!"

"Emmanuelle smiled. "In Quirm, we have the Deuxième Bureau who are also most attentive for our moral and political welfare." she said. "Although Commandant Fournier of the Gendarmerie is said to be reforming them along the lines of the Cable Street Particulars. Non, mes amies, the fille mèchante is Catherine Perry-Bowen. Aided by her classmates, who I am shortly to speak to. And she presents me, this morning, with a situation."

Alice nodded. "I wondered when your adventurous side was going to emerge in her." she commented. "Well, she took her time casting her new eyes on a boy she liked!"

"And, like me she does not believe in doing it by halves." Emmanuelle said, ruefully, recalling her own adventurous girlhood. "What the eye covets, let the hand boldly seize!"

"And you really don't want to punish her for doing something you've personally done, lots of times." Alice said.

"Oui, chere amie. This is truth. But only a couple of times on the roof. Not after I discovered beds!"

Johanna hung her hat on the stuffed baboon. This made the creature look absurd rather than frightening.

"Ellice end I may hev a solution." she said. "Care to hear it?"

Several minutes later, the twelve girls of five Black Widow were invited into their teacher's office. Catherine saw the stuffed baboon, unsheeted in her presence for the first time, and shuddered as memories surfaced. Then she saw it was wearing a Howondalandian bush hat at a jaunty angle, which made the beast that had blinded her look... comical. She laughed as the bad memory receded. She felt a friendly pat on her shoulder.

"Doesn't look so bad now, yesno?" Miss Smith-Rhodes said, pleasantly. She did not retrieve her hat.

"Thank you."Catherine said. She was aware Madame was standing with her back to the window, outlined in weak morning light. Alice Band was standing in the other corner of the office, silently watching.

"Twelve girls." Madame said. "Who last night all colluded to despatch one of their own on a serious breach of school rules. Alors, the identity of the girl who absconded and returned is not officially known. Not even to me. Such things as I am aware of came to me through unofficial channels, and I do not propose to act on such hearsay. So I will leave that as unofficial. But the School authorities are looking for her, most actively so. They know the identity of the young man, and will no doubt be observing him closely so as to see which girl pupils of his own age and class he chooses to associate with him, and who choose to associate with him in his turn. Which presents a problem.

"There must be punishment. School rules have been breached. As twelve pupils colluded to assist one in a greater breach, each will be punished, informally, as if she performed the deed. This is fair, as the one who is being sought has not owned up. My colleagues here have proposed a method of most elegantly resolving the situation. Miss Band?"

Alice Band stepped forwards. She smiled, in a friendly way. This did not deceive her audience one little bit.

"You know me." she said. "I know you all. We are going to have an opportunity for all of us to get to know each other that little bit better. I know this is short notice. But later today, the fith year girls of my own Tump House and from Scorpion House are scheduled to go out on a six-day Adventure Training and Wilderness Survival expedition. This will be led by myself and by Miss Smith-Rhodes. I have conferred with my colleagues, and later today we will be presenting our decision... that is, making a strong case to Lady T'Malia... that all forty-eight current fifth-form girls go on this expedition. Which now includes Raven House and you rather naughty people from Black Widow House." Alice smiled broadly, watching the reaction.

"Think about it. It takes you out of circulation for a week. Nobody here can monitor you to see which boys you're interested in. It will burn off your surplus energies, as clearly some of you here believe you can do without sleep. And as for boys – forget it. Everybody wins!"

"And by the time you return, the Dark Council may well have new situations to absorb their energies, and last night's mystery girl, who made the Home Run, will remain a mystery." Emmanuelle said. "Bon. And by the way, Catherine, a young gentleman called to return an item of lost property. As he clearly has worries of his own, this was a most courteous action on his part and you may wish to show him a seeming and appropriate form of gratitude when you see him next. Were it me, I would!"

She held out Catherine's lost cloak.

"Do not be so careless as to lose it again. And get it laundered. The marks look as if it has been used to clean a roof. It is dirty."

"End before you go!" Miss Smith-Rhodes said. "With forty-eight of you on cemp, there is elways a need for fatigue parties. To gether firewood. To dig letrines. To fill the letrines when we move on. To fetch water. End other useful duties. I propose Five Bleck Widow perform the mejority of these tesks. Herd work will be good for you!"

"You can draw a pick and shovel each from Stores and carry it as extra kit." Alice Band said. "No more than an extra five or six pounds weight. Right, that's it!"

the girls were dismissed. Their collective response was relief. It could have been so much worse...


(1) Cleaning ovens is grim and dirty. Cleaning them to the satisfaction of Joan Sanderson-Reeves is worse. When the oven in question was last used to bake a batch of Lord Downey's special almond slices, it adds an extra dimension of hazard. Similarly, Gillian Lansbury's paint pigments were not for the faint-hearted. Powdered cinnabar gives a nice rich red. It also contains lots of lovely mercury salts. Similarly, the raw material for Cobalt Blue, Agatean White, Ubu Yellow, Klatchian Inframarine, et c, provide art to die for. Or at least to get pretty queasy for. And just try pruning a Tezuman Strangler Vine that doesn't want to be pruned.

(2) To discover how this worked out, see my story The Importance of Index Cards. It did not end well.

(3) Because in any large institution, porters and overlooked menial staff get everywhere and generally pick up accurate gossip first.

(4) Reference Jingo, by Terry Pratchett. Any invader trying to capture the Guild of Assassins buildings would have had a terrible and protracted fight.

(5) The ones who did not lust after her tended to speculate on where she bought her clothes, makeup and perfume. It all balances.

(6) On Roundworld we might say, of somebody guilty as Hell and who has contrived to come out smelling of roses, "scot-free"

(7) Partly because the Assassins recognised that energetic young people subjected to very physical training should be fed well. Because it was a good place to practically learn about table manners. And mainly because graduate Assassins and very senior people ate here too, as guests, and were served from the same menu. No typical boarding school food for them.


Bonus Lyric:

The Revenge of Vera Gemini, Patti Smith and the Blue Öyster Cult

Strange, eerie, and compulsive Smith's vocals come in a beat or so behind Eric Bloom's, and sound like a ghostly echo of his thoughts – or else a seperate personality in a disintegrating mind.

(She, spoken:) You're boned like a saint,
With the consciousness of a snake...

(he:)

You're the kind of girl(she:
I'd like to find;
Face like an angel (she:oh, my...)
But you're boned like the devil!

(he:)

Your eyes have shifted from me; (she: That shift.. {alternatively, "That's shit!"})
(he:)
Everyone saw what you did; (she: Your eyes...)
You have slipped from beneath me,(she: You're me...)
Like a false and nervous squid;

Oh no more horses, horses

We're gonna swim like a fish (She: We're gonna swim like a fish...)
Into the hole, in which you planned to ditch me
My lovely Vera Marie!

(she: Oh, I'm so...)
(he:)
You planned to leave me cold;(she: sun...)
But you'll never get your wish; (she: in the...)
On the 24th of May, (She: Birthday)
I'll gather up your reins!

(He:)

You filled me with a vengeance, (She: Fill me...)
And you touched me with your prayer (she: that's Chance)
I'm gonna pull you from this dance (she: Dance...)
You're gonna ride so easily!

Oh no more horses horses
We're gonna swim like a fish (she: we're gonna swim like a fish!)
Into the hole, in which you planned to ditch me,

My lovely Vera Marie!

Hey! Come on, Vera...

(She: This night – I'll dance!)

Oh no more Horses, Horses;
We're gonna swim like a fish (she: I'm gonna swim like a fish!)
Into the hole, in which you planned to ditch me,

My lovely Vera Marie!

I was your victim, (she: Victim...)
I was well deceived (she: Now, do you see?)
Hell's built on regret (she: Regret...)
But I love your naked neck!And evil lies that you told me (she: Your lies...)
Could make me believe you're two-faced (she: That's true...)
Because two faces have you (she: Just two faces have I...)
And they're both gonna go!Oh no more horses, horses,
We're gonna swim like a fish, (She: I'm gonna swim like a fish!)
Into the hole, in which you planned to ditch me, (she: Did she?)
My lovely... Vera Gemini!

It has to be listened to, so as to get the full flavour of it... Patti also plays with this sort of dual-lyric in her epic song Horses, where two or more streams of consciousness are going in in the same mind represented by a multitracked Patti. It is no accident the song Horses is name-checked here. I recommend You-Tube for more – aggravatingly FF does not allow me to post links.

Oh, joys. Vera Gemini, I discovered, is also a Marvel Comics villain. She is High Priestess of a Cult called... the Harvesters of Eyes. Links and allusions to BOC music abound. It is not clear if the song or the comic came first, but either way the two feed from each other...