Chapter 7 - Interlude ~ Of Shadow and Light
Near Menars, France - Year 2014. Two weeks earlier.
Fiona was confronted with the same routine every day: a governess or butler took her to and from school, a tutor gave her private lessons related to school or nobility, a cook prepared her meals... which were served on a rather gloomy table.
All the faces were grey, the adults were talking to each other and excluding her from their exchanges when they weren't infantilizing her. Fiona didn't want their pity, just a little of their attention and affection. Inheritance, possession of the estate, finances... these subjects came up again and again in the mouths of these adults who circled around her like vultures around a prey. And when the adults weren't around, Fiona ate alone at the big, empty table. She either felt isolated and in poor company, or she felt desperately alone. The child felt like the king of Ithaca having to choose between Charybdis and Scylla.
Aunt Anna had had enough of her behavior that day, feeling that she had been immature when Fiona had responded at the table to a criticism of her late mother. The aunt she hated so much had sent her to her room, punishing her for ten days of being locked up there while her meals were brought directly to her by servants.
She had cried for many hours, with grief, but also with anger at not being heard. This could not go on. Taking courage, Fiona had written a letter to her English aunt. She was not allowed a computer in her room or a cell phone because of her young age and her parents' traditional upbringing.
The mail had been the safest way, especially since she still had allies in the household. Damien, his mother's valet, could carry and deliver his mail discreetly, without his correspondence being caught by the adults. Alas, he had been caught and sent away that evening after being chastised by his Aunt Anna. After reading his letter, she tore it up in front of Fiona's reddened eyes and threw it in the fire, extending his isolation to three weeks.
Fiona never saw or heard from Damien again, which left her inconsolable.
All night she prayed that God would guide her to a friend who would never abandon her.
The day after the punishment began, Fiona noticed that a pretty design had appeared on her hand, a pattern that wouldn't go away when she showered or washed her hands. At first she was very worried about being punished by her Aunt Anna, but her curiosity overcame her fear when she remembered a design she had seen in one of her father's books. Fiona even remembered where he had stored the book in question. Her father had often taken her with him to the large library in the manor, and had read countless books to her at her request.
Her father was always kind to her. She missed him so much... her heart sank.
Fiona made a big decision that night. She wanted to know more, without further delay.
Aunt Anna had never been interested in the domesticity and precise plans of the manor. Having always been kind to the household, Fiona had been introduced by the servants to the existence of secret passages hidden in the walls and attics of the castle. The servants were very helpful and allowed her to move around a little more freely when she was grounded in her room.
Dressing in her favorite blue vest, her matching tank top, her pearl gray skirt, her high blue socks and her boots, Fiona had waited for the silence to reign again on the manor. Her bag was ready. Gathering her courage, the young girl pressed the mechanism revealing the entrance to the secret passage connected to her room. Like a shadow she slipped through and disappeared into the darkness.
Illuminating herself with a small flaming sphere in one hand and the other hand clutching the jewel around her neck, Fiona began to walk through the darkened alleys of the manor's bowels.
Astrid, her housekeeper, had always told her to avoid the stairs that led down to the basement. It was a room reserved for Sir Cedric, a sort of secret garden that she was not to pass through. If Fiona had been very curious about this mysterious room, it was not the destination of her expedition. No, tonight she would rather take a step back from her problems. No, tonight she would rather take a step back from her problems.
The heiress of the D'Elvarens needed three nights to gather all the elements she would need in her secret hiding place, located in the attic of the manor. She had first ventured into the library to find the book, which spoke of the "Grail Wars". It was written in Old French, but the handwritten notes left by her father had helped her. That was how she was able to retrieve the book and patiently transcribe it to understand what the strange tattoo meant. More and more curious, Fiona had then gone to explore her father's small office to retrieve one of his notebooks and some materials indicated in the book. No one would notice their absence any time soon, no one was venturing in there anymore.
She used the last night to study the event in the book very carefully, and then the ritual described in her father's notebook. Fiona almost lost hope when she realized that she was missing an element that would be invaluable to the success of the experiment: a catalyst, a relic.
Unfortunately, these were the first things her aunts and uncles had requisitioned when they arrived.
The young girl returned to her room in the early hours of the morning almost disheartened. Just before bedtime, she became aware of the reassuring coolness of the golden metal resting against her sternum.
Her slender fingers pulled a thin chain from her neck. Made of gold beads with pearls linked by a chain, the rosary was finished with a thin Catholic cross. The cross was adorned with five red pearls, four on its branches and one in the center of the pendant.
Her father had given it to her on her birthday, shortly before he passed away. He had asked her to take care of it and assured her that if she showed piety, God would watch over her through it.
Fiona clutched it tightly between her fingers before kneeling down and taking the Rosary between her fingers to say a prayer to the Lord. Her lips softly whispered a Paster Noster.
- Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.
Opening one of her father's vials of mercury, the heiress of the D'Elvaren family carefully reproduced the magical seal of her family. After a short hesitation, the young girl took her courage in both hands and placed the rosary in the center of the invocation circle of the ritual she was going to attempt.
It was a hot night. It was so hot that it seemed to be stifling in her hiding place in the attic. The rain was pouring down on the roof of the manor house, while lightning streaked the night sky at regular intervals and the thunder roared in harmony with the wind.
Fiona was dressed in a white blouse with a navy blue skirt, barefoot, the child had let her untied blond hair slide over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were ringed with fatigue. She stood up, however, and resolutely closed her eyes to concentrate and focus her magic on the ritual.
For a few minutes she feared her efforts would be in vain and the attempt unsuccessful.
Suddenly, the seal began to glow so brightly in silver that Fiona was forced to quickly back away. Swallowing a terrified scream in her throat, the girl wanted to move further back towards the trapdoor leading to the secret passage when the glow of the seal became blinding, flooding the whole room with its brightness as a bolt of lightning seemed to strike close to her.
A crashing sound hit the attic, while a gust of wind pushed her back against her bunk with violence. Stunned by the blow, Fiona closed her irritated eyes and instinctively fell back into a fetal position to protect herself from the breaking and falling of nearby objects.
Eventually, it calmed down, like a lull after the storm. The girl could still hear the rumble of thunder outside, but it seemed more distant. The lightning still struck hard, but it seemed less close to this wing of the mansion. She shuddered as she felt raindrops fall forcefully on her hair and body.
His features took on a horrified expression as he saw what was left of the summoning circle. The floor where it had been drawn had been destroyed, the ceiling above it had been shattered and was open to the sky. The room was upside down, and from what she could see, a huge hole had been blown through it for at least two stories. Had she failed? Yet she felt so tired.
Where was the rosary? Where was her father's rosary? To fail was one thing, but to lose it...
Fiona felt tingling in her eyes before tears began to roll down her cheeks. It was the last memory of her father, and because of her selfishness, she had now lost it. The child fell to her knees and began to sob silently, huddled over herself as the storm seemed to slowly move away from the manor, rumbling more and more toward the horizon.
Very worried about the consequences of her attempt and being rudely greedy, Fiona rushed as fast as she could to the first floor using the network of secret corridors. Under her hiding place in the attic was her Aunt Anna's room, over a small adjoining living room.
The child easily conjured a small flaming sphere in one of her hands to light her way, careful not to stumble down the stairs in too much of a rush. Once at the end of the narrow hallway the girl used her free hand to activate the exit mechanism of the secret passage, which was to move a false shelf of books from the auxiliary room. She was astonished by the resistance that it opposed to her, such as she had to extinguish her small flaming sphere to push with all her strength with two hands to finish moving it.
The child contained a slight cry when books collapsed a few centimeters from her, before contemplating the devastation of the place. It was as if a tornado had touched down right there!
This was not mentioned at all in the instructions in the notebook. Had this happened because of her failure? Fiona was sure she had paid attention to everything: the time, the summoning circle, the materials, the relic... Had she been mistaken about the nature of her rosary? Should she have followed the recommended directions in the absence of an artifact, and in fact prepared an incantatory chant?
Many questions swirled in her head before coming to a sad conclusion. Whatever it was, she had caused the damage and it was probably her fault that the ritual had failed. What was done was done. All she had to do now was to learn from it and find the rosary.
Alas, the dust from three floors had gathered in the room, forming a mist in the darkness. Numerous debris littered the floor of the room, between the stale sheets, the demolished furniture and even a lonely bed that sat near the heart of the room, not far from an irrecoverable sofa. The darkness of the room was barely pierced by the moonlight emanating from the largely gutted roof.
The heiress of Elvaren advanced cautiously in the room, looking desperately for the rosary. She only had time to take a few steps before a sharp, shrill voice called out to her.
- FIONA!
The girl was seized by a violent start, her face pale. This did not bode well. Slowly, she turned in the direction of the voice. The tall, lean figure of her Aunt Anna stood tall, fists clenched. Dressed in an expensive nightie and a simple silk robe, her father's younger sister had lost none of her stern look. She had once been a beautiful and much courted lady, but age and wrinkles were beginning to crease her facial features. Her chestnut hair was cut short at the neck. Her thin nose seemed to quiver with anger, while her tent erected a slightly pointed chin. She seemed intimidating to Fiona's eyes, lit by the candle her aunt had placed on a nearby cabinet. The young girl tried nervously to greet her, her voice particularly soft.
- Good evening my aunt. I... I had heard a noise, I wanted to see what it was.
Stopping right in front of the child, her Aunt Anna forced her to straighten her head by holding her chin.
- What is this? Don't even try to lie to me, Fiona! What did you do?
- I'm sorry aunt Anna. I-I just wanted to try something, I didn't think that...
- You didn't think, as usual! You've seen the state of the floor and ceiling!
- I'll pay to fix them, I promise! We can fix them, right Auntie?
Although she was afraid, Fiona couldn't help but think that there was no lack of rooms in the manor until the work was done, and that there was no lack of money to hire professionals. However, the young girl refrained from sharing it aloud, in view of Aunt Anna's growing irritation.
Elvaren's little one instinctively stepped back when the latter abruptly released her chin, barely moving away from her. The terrifying adult raised a dry hand with long manicured nails. Preparing herself for what she knew was coming, the child closed her eyes as soon as she saw the hand melting towards her.
Fiona was surprised not to feel the expected dry pain.
The girl waited a little, but felt nothing coming. Cautious, she slowly opened her eyes again.
An astonishing scene was facing her. Her aunt seemed petrified, her face expressing the greatest stupor she had ever seen, intermingled with smoldering rage. Why was she frozen?
Fiona saw that Aunt Anna's forearm was clasped by a powerful black-gloved hand, which seemed to rise from the darkness barely disturbed by the feverish glow of the candle. A shadow dominated her relative with its height before a deep voice pierced the very heavy silence.
- Madam. A person of your quality would not hit a child, would he?
The lunar rays which slipped in the living room ravaged by the hole drilled since the roof drew in the back of his aunt the features of a dry and worrying face. The cold expression with frowning eyebrows was surrounded by stiff black half-length hair, jet eyes set on her aunt. With her pale skin and haughty, if angular, face, the apparition looked a bit like a vampire.
Aunt Anna seemed to recover and began to struggle vigorously. The shadow seemed to have no trouble maintaining its grip on her relative's forearm, immobilizing most of her arm. The aristocratic and high voice of the forty-year-old complained of an outraged tone.
- Who do you think you are! What are you doing in our manor?
- I was invited, let's see, and it seems that I arrived at the right time.
The stranger's features remained neutral and stoic, as if frozen in marble. Without loosening his grip on her aunt's arm, Fiona saw the man put his ebony eyes on her. He watched her from head to toe, seeming to lose interest in his relative who was crying out under his grip. His severe glance softened while crossing that of Fiona before darkening while returning towards Anna.
- Release me, you uneducated brute! Get out of here immediately or I'll call the police!
- And what are you going to call the police with when I break both your arms? Or should I start with your vocal cords?
As a warning, the hand that held her aunt's wrist slowly swung until it twisted, drawing a small, plaintive cry from the aristocrat. Knowing her aunt's obtuse temperament and being very afraid that things could go wrong as well as panic the domesticity, Fiona gathered her courage to intervene. After a breath, the young girl tried to intervene.
- I'm fine, sir, don't be afraid. Aunt, please don't be alarmed. It was I who sent for him. Please calm down, I don't want to scare our people.
- Listen to the young lady. Calm down madam. Be careful, there are after all other, more effective ways to ensure your cooperation.
- If you dare to come after me, I swear you'll regret it! You will pay for it, I...
- That's enough, Auntie! You'll wake up the whole household, if you haven't already. If you continue to treat my guest so badly, I will tell Aunt Evelyn at the first opportunity!
And there a hand with the broad palm covered entirely the mouth of the aristocrat and partly her nose, so as to deprive her completely of air. The eyes of the woman widened whereas she struggled vainly against the catch which did not release her of an inch. As the relative began to move much more limply, he released her mouth and whispered in her ear.
- Go ahead and shout. Give me that pleasure, that little excuse to put my hand back on and only remove it from your corpse.
Fiona was frightened for a few moments when her aunt turned pale and, after a small scream, collapsed to the ground. The child rushed to her to make sure she was still breathing. The young Elvaren was reassured to see that she was only passed out and that her trunk was slowly but steadily rising, peaceful. It was only when she heard a metallic tinkling that she raised her head. The man had knelt down to stand at her height and was watching her with great attention.
He was dressed like a medieval knight. The full armor he wore was equipped with heavy light gray plates with a large Catholic cross on its breastplate, shaded here and there by a few emerald hues. A long white cloak extended from his shoulder blades, sliding from his left arm to the middle of his shin. A heavy sword and dagger were girded at her waist.
She hadn't heard what he had whispered to her aunt, but it had had an effect.
The stranger had not moved and remained silent, not showing any hostility towards her. The girl could not explain it well, but she felt that a connection existed between them. Her eyes slid for a moment to his right hand, which bore the strange but elegant tattoo associated with potential participants in the Holy Grail War. The once almost faded red lines had become much sharper, sporting a crimson hue.
The warrior held out a black-gloved hand with a reassuring smile. At first hesitant, Fiona decided to trust her instinct and seized with gratitude his hand. He lifted it with ease, showing a measured strength. As soon as she was on her feet, Fiona bowed her head in a brief curtsy.
- I'm sorry you were so unwelcome. I didn't think she'd get up so quickly to go see the damage. She was upset with me, considering what happened to her room and the roof.
- Don't apologize Master, she just needs to learn to obey you. Don't worry, I'll see to it," replied the knight with a shadow of a smile.
- I am Fiona, heiress of the house of Elvaren by my father Cedric. May I know your name or what to call you, sir?
- I am of Saber class, so that will be my name outside these walls, but by baptism, I am Gilles de Montmorency-Laval, Baron de Rais and Marshal of France, he answered her with solemnity.
Gilles de Rais... Fiona was familiar with this name and the legends associated with it, often linked to the shadow of a most bloody decline. The story of "Bluebeard", considered the first serial killer in French history, was part of the shadowy history of the medieval period that followed the execution of La Pucelle. Many sins were attached to her name, the most famous being the murders and rapes of children, nearly a hundred of them according to the writings.
Fiona had met enough bad people in her family's acquaintances to feel this. It was not, however, the aura of a serial killer that emanated from the knight in front of her.
His family had never forgotten his past prestige and glory before his fall into darkness. He had been, for a time, a servant of France and of God, her grandfather had once told her. His misdeeds and crimes should not be forgotten, but his exploits should not be forgotten.
He had once been told that the most famous history was often the one written by the victors. The history of Charles VII, Pierre Cauchon, Joan of Arc and Gilles de Rais was full of mysteries.
The girl really wanted to trust him and decided to trust her own instincts. With a frank smile and curious eyes, the heiress of Elvaren answered him with enthusiasm.
- Nice to meet you! May I be on first-name terms with you? I'm used to being on first-name terms, but I prefer being on first-name terms.
- Very well, the first name will be used Master.
- Thank you very much! Have you seen a rosary by any chance, Saber? I'm afraid it fell down here from the attic when the floor collapsed up to here.
The heroic spirit paused for a moment to inspect the purse hanging at his waist near a dagger. To Fiona's relief, the knight delicately extracted a familiar chain and cross, which he placed in the palm of one of her open hands before holding it out to her.
- It is indeed this rosary that it is about, isn't it?
- Yes, it is! Thank you so much, I really want it. I was afraid I had lost it or damaged it during the invocation ritual... it's a gift from my father, you see.
- Try to keep it carefully. It's important to keep family treasures carefully.
Fiona nodded with a newfound cheerfulness after putting the chain of the rosary back around her neck, becoming more and more comfortable as they got to know each other. The girl would have preferred proper introductions, of course, but the situation had gotten a little out of hand... at least Saber wasn't holding it against her!
She was about to invite him to follow her in her room so that they could discuss it more calmly when the glance of the child landed on the unconscious body of her aunt, then on the immobilized one of the homunculus which officiated as the "personal servant" of this last one. Fiona had never wanted to know what they were doing with Aunt Anna in her room, beyond the fact that it was often very noisy and that the walls of the manor sometimes shook.
The child was not very fond of her aunt, but she did not have a heart of stone.
The young heiress went forward to kneel at the level of her stunned relative, before going to inspect the state of her handyman. Fortunately, the homunculus was not irreparably wounded, and would be easily regenerated by using magic. He had nothing to do with this story, and did not deserve to remain bruised by the fall. Without asking for anything else, the schoolgirl concentrated her magic and touched his wounds with one hand, healing them with the help of a healing spell she had mastered. It was fortunate that the wounds were not serious.
As she straightened up, the girl staggered, feeling the cost of the magic backwards. When she almost wobbled, she felt Saber come to her side and gently support her by the arm. At his silent question, Fiona shook her head negatively with a small, reassuring smile. It was nothing serious, only an accumulated fatigue that the child had not anticipated.
Elvaren's little one took the time to consider aloud what to do with her aunt Anna.
- I can't leave her in this state... mm, her room is unusable, she will have to use one of the guest rooms and get her servant tomorrow. The problem is that she might scream when she wakes up. The household will listen to me without worrying, but the adults less so. I need her to be calm by tomorrow, I don't want her to get in the way.
- Is there a pharmacy here?" asked Gilles in a tone that was meant to be innocent.
- There's one in every bathroom, that's the rule. Why is that?
- I'm sure we can find something to keep her... calm.
- mm... the adults will notice right away that she's not in her right mind. I'd like to try to convince her before I resort to that. I would have a little idea, if it were possible to carry her.
- Nothing is impossible for the willing," Saber said, grabbing his aunt by the waist and carrying her like a sack of potatoes.
- In the basement, there used to be huge dungeons to lock up the enemies of my ancestors. Many of them were demolished to make storage rooms. My father destroyed others afterwards to create his private workroom. There are still two or three cells left.
- It will be very good. With a bed and some furniture, it will do very well.
Fiona was careful not to mention that they had also been used at times to punish children who were not well-behaved in the family. They were certainly not subjected to the Question or tortured, they were well fed and well treated, but they were kept in isolation to calm down and reflect on their actions. This tradition had become rarer since his late grandfather, but it was not extinct.
- I know of one already equipped like this, right next to my father's lab. I thought we could leave her there for a few hours, with food and water, so that she would think and be more willing to talk. I've been letting them decide for me for too long. She won't stop me from doing this Holy Grail War with you.
- I don't think there's much that could stop you, Master.
- It's in the blood, Grandpa said. They say that once a D'Elvaren is determined, he never gives up.
- I think it's in your blood, you people from Elvaren.
Saber's comment surprised Fiona, as did the thoughtful expression in her dark eyes at the words. The child waited a few seconds in silence as they slowly made their way down the steps to the basement without taking her eyes off her protector, but the Servant didn't seem to want to elaborate. Noticing that she was looking at him curiously, the Marshal of France gave her a slight smile and moved on to a completely different topic.
- I'd be curious to meet your good aunt after meeting the bad one.
- Aunt Evelyn? If you don't have too many problems with the English, I think you'll like her. Due to family disputes, she lives in London and works in computer security. She almost never comes back to France. I remember she was always very nice to me.
A softer smile came to the child's lips as she thought of her British aunt. How she longed to see her again! Her visits to the manors had been far too infrequent in recent years... Aunt Evelyn was considered an outcast by the rest of the family, but the head of the family's two daughters loved her dearly. Fiona especially adored her, almost like her late mother.
The seriousness of Saber's voice brought her back to the present time and she listened carefully.
- And now, where do we go next?
- I was thinking of Paris. If there is a Grail War going on, I think we'd learn more in the capital than in Menars. We'll take the train or bus depending on the schedule. I'll call Aunt Evelyn on Aunt Anna's cell phone. To avoid her mistaking me for her, I will have the phone number changed. It will be more useful to us I think than to Aunt Anna!
- So let's join her.
- I hope that Aunt Anna won't stop me from leaving without one of her chaperones and that Aunt Evelyn can join us in the capital if her work doesn't keep her too long.
- As long as I'm here, your evil aunt can't stop you from doing anything.
Her assurance inspired Fiona, encouraged her to have confidence in herself. The call to her Aunt Evelyn would be the first step on the path she had decided to take on her own. The child suspected that they would have many obstacles in their path, but she was determined to walk it. Fiona did not want to be a helpless princess. She was one of Elvaren's and would do them proud.
Perhaps she would find answers and clues, as they fought their way through.
It was easy for them to find a suitable phone store once they arrived at the nearest big city, Blois. A former royal stronghold, little more than the old city center of Blois retained traces of its former glory. Perched high on its hill, the castle with its four faces reflecting its noble past watched over the Loire River that bordered the city and the multitude of houses and buildings built at its feet.
Fiona had always enjoyed walking around Blois. Although it was not as active as Orleans and Tours, the metropolises of the Centre region located 30 minutes from Blois, the city had kept a certain charm and a quiet activity that did not displease the young mage. Too few occasions had she wandered there, and even those had always been in the presence of a chaperone.
The child was aware, however, that they did not have the luxury of lingering to stroll around and that she would not be able to go in search of new books at LeMoyne's bookstore, much to her regret.
Thanking the salesman who had given her a complete cleaning of her phone at a good price and given her a prepaid card valid for international and European calls, Fiona had then guided her companion and new friend through the streets of the city to a nearby park.
Saber had been rather austere and reserved until her young Master mentioned on the way the statue of the Pucelle d'Orléans which stood not far from the park of the rose garden of Blois.
The Servant had opened up a little and had not held back from commenting on this tribute paid by the same Frenchmen who, centuries earlier, had delivered the Maid of Orleans to the infamous English. Beyond this dark resentment, the baron had taken pleasure in telling him various anecdotes and stories of battles fought by the Saint whom he seemed to admire with all his heart. He spoke of them with such passion that Fiona had not had the heart to interrupt him and lent him an attentive ear. He was far more interesting than the tutors she had had for her history classes!
For a man of war, he was also very knowledgeable about art.
They sat on a bench next to the rose garden, in a corner where they would not be disturbed. Leaving Saber to keep an eye on their surroundings and to warn her of any indiscreet irruption in their close vicinity, Fiona took out her aunt's phone that she had pilfered. The girl smoothly typed in her English aunt's number and, after a short hesitation, gently pressed the call button on the cell phone keypad to initiate the call.
She silently prayed that her relative would receive her call and, she hoped, answer it.
The dial tone echoed three times in a vacuum before breaking off with a crackle. A female voice came back, clearly audible as she asked him in English.
- Hello, RedBird shop here. How may we help you?
Despite her nervousness, Fiona couldn't contain the smile that blossomed on her lips. She could recognize the voice that had so many memories from her childhood. Her command of the English language was not yet very good because of her young age. She could almost understand it as long as it was not too complicated, but still had many problems to speak it correctly with the right accentuation. Elvaren's little one tried hard, even though she couldn't do anything about her stubborn French accent.
- Hello Aunt Evy. How... how do you do?
- ... may I know to whom I am talking to, she asked with great calmness in her voice.
- It-It's Fiona, Aunt Evelyn! Do not you remember me?" the girl stammered as best she could.
A silence settled for several seconds that seemed interminable. Fiona could hardly contain her excitement and nervousness, thrilled to be able to talk to her favorite aunt again, but worried about getting her into trouble. When her aunt spoke again in French, her voice was much softer and genuinely surprised.
- Fiona? I wasn't expecting a call from you any time soon, what a nice surprise! How are you, my angel? What phone are you using? I don't know this number.
- Hello auntie! I'm so happy to hear from you. I'm fine, how are you? Oh this is a phone I borrowed, but I hope I'm not disturbing you, you must be in the middle of work... do you want me to call you later?
- Don't worry darling, you're not bothering me at all. Are you at the manor or on your way back from school? Did Astrid lend you hers? It's nice of her, commented her aunt.
- Okay, I don't want to bother you. No, I'm not at school or at the manor. And this is not Astrid's phone, but Aunt Anna's. She wasn't using it and I really wanted to call you. I know it's not right, but I couldn't do anything else, I couldn't stay, I...
Fiona realized that her own voice had become higher pitched and that she spoke much faster and more awkwardly than she would have liked. This often happened when she was very nervous, much to her embarrassment, especially when she knew she had made a big mistake. Aunt Evelyn interrupted her as her words became unintelligible, in a voice that was still soft but firm.
- Take a breath, Fiona. I'm not here to scold you, even if it wasn't very wise. It's not like you though. Is everything okay? Where are you now?
- I'm fine, auntie.
- You know you can tell me anything, your secrets will be mine.
Fiona wasn't sure how to answer him. She remembered all too well the last time her two aunts had argued about her, the ancient walls of the manor almost shaking under the weight and force of their voices. Precious vases and statuettes had been sacrificed in the course of those terrifying arguments, leaving the living room a nameless mess.
- Fiona? Are you still on the line, honey?
- Yes auntie, excuse me. I'm in Blois!
- In Blois ? Did you go with Astrid or Lucie for the races?
- No, I went without them," answered Fiona in a factual tone.
- Oh, like a big girl then. Are you all alone?
- Well yes, I am a big girl, but no, I'm not alone. You always told me not to go out by myself, especially outside the estate.
Fiona didn't see the harm. She wasn't alone, so there shouldn't be a problem. It wasn't as if she was on the banks of the Loire, so dark and deserted. No, she was in the heart of downtown, where there were always plenty of people. She was safe. Why was Auntie Evelyn asking her all these questions? The child had been very good, after all! There was a short silence as her aunt spoke to someone in English before speaking to her again.
- How well do you know the person who is with you?
- Well yes, I'm not going out with a stranger!
- Is it someone your father, Anna or I know?
- mm I don't think so, but you'll have to ask him.
- Okay. Can you put him on the phone for a moment, sweetheart?
- Sure, sure, sure! I'll pass it to you," Fiona replied cheerfully before handing the device to her knight.
Saber did not hesitate long to catch the cell phone after a moment of perplexity, before moving slightly away from the bench where Fiona was sitting. Curious, the girl did not need to eavesdrop to hear their exchanges in view of the proximity.
Their discussion dragged on so long that the girl lost interest in listening to them and preferred to be distracted by the landscape and the view overlooking the Loire, surrounded by beautiful rose hedges.
When Saber came back to her, he seemed satisfied with the conversation and gave her back the phone with the sign to take the call. Fiona soon heard the voice of Auntie Evelyn.
- I saw with this gentleman, who explained me the situation. Listen to me carefully, Fiona. You are going to take the first train to Paris, without a connection. You will go with your... friend to the coordinates of the hotel that I sent you by SMS. You will spend the meal and the night there. I will join you tomorrow at 8 am. You will wait for me at the airport Paris-Charles de Gaulle, Hall 2. Don't worry about Anna, I will take care of telling her that you are coming with me. Do you understand?
- I can't wait to see you, Auntie. Have a good flight and see you soon!
- Me too, my flower. Take care and see you tomorrow.
Fiona was already feeling more reassured and excited about seeing her favorite aunt again. She was looking forward to meeting her great friend, who had been so thoughtful and kind to her. The child sang softly as she put the laptop away. Putting her hand on the small travel suitcase she had prepared, in addition to her bag, the young Elvaren approached Saber and grabbed his hand with her free hand, inviting him to follow her while giving him a radiant smile.
- Follow me, I know the way to the station! We'll go on foot, we're not in a hurry and it would be silly to take the bus when the weather is so nice.
Saber followed him without protesting, with a shadow of a smile on his lips, dressed in a contemporary civilian outfit much more appropriate for this time than his full combat armor.
London, 2014.
In a large pyramidal building with beige paint and large tinted windows, a woman hung up her custom black iPhone 5S. She glanced at the thick file stamped "confidential" that she was going through before her phone began to indicate a call.
Her face turned for a few minutes to the window, half obscured by a shutter offering an unparalleled view of one of the banks of the Thames, one of her delicate hands coming to grasp her large mug filled with full-bodied black Arabica coffee. After taking a sip, her other hand reached for her miniature walkie-talkie and pressed a button.
- Joan, it's me. Can you meet me at my office?
- I'll be right there!" a soft, clear voice answered. Is this the 56th floor?
- Room 5622, yes. Don't hesitate to ask Ellora if you can't find the way. Thank you.
A slight smile brightened the serious features of the woman whose black suit, white blouse and impeccably tailored black canvas pants made her look all the more severe. Her fine eyebrows furrowed as the bureaucrat turned her attention to the file. It was already filled with many sheets of paper, including a variety of reports, even though it had been created only a month earlier.
Confident that she had a carefully encrypted computer copy on her secure computer, the woman placed the paper file in a safe that was heavily secured by a very complex lock.
Slipping an earpiece into her ear, she listened again to the conversation she had been recording out of habit, paying attention to every detail of the man's voice and words. He had knowingly left clues for her while spinning a double talk. She knew that the man knew more than he was letting on, and that he knew the same was true for her.
Fascinating, but disturbing.
She didn't like the idea of an innocent child being involved in this case, especially considering the...
The whistling of her door drew her out of her thoughts. Her penetrating gaze landed on her visitor, whose arms were busy carrying a folder full of loose sheets closed with a ribbon. From the top of her six feet, the visitor seemed a little smaller than the occupant of office 5622.
Dressed in a navy blue jacket with matching pants and a white shirt, and wearing wedge heels, a slender young woman with a gentle smile entered the room.
Her slightly pointed chin was softened by her haughty features. Her fair skin, her ash-blond hair was cut very short, almost boyishly, with two slightly longer locks and a fringe to frame her fine face and cover her forehead. Behind a discreet pair of glasses, two eyes of a celestial blue carried a peaceful, curious and benevolent look.
The woman granted to her visitor a friendly smile before inviting her to sit down by seeing the cheeks a little reddened by the effort and the slightly short breath of her companion.
- Put your heavy file down, Joan. I'll put it in the internal mail later. I hope your office visit with Ellora went well. I didn't know you liked glasses.
- Oh, they were a gift from Ellora, she told me they would look good on me and give a serious look. Everything went well, yes. Don't worry it's not too heavy, I just hurried.
Noticing from the seriousness of her face that the subject must be sensitive and serious, the young woman put the file down and then closed the door behind her, locking it so as to soundproof it. Without losing her smile, her teammate sat down in front of her and put a worried hand on hers.
- Are you all right, Evelyn? You look tired. I'm worried about you, you know. I know you like to apply yourself to your work, but they don't deserve that you exhaust yourself. Ellora is of my opinion.
- I'll go and rest as soon as possible, Jeanne, don't worry.
- A very good idea! Can I help you in any way?
- I'm sure you can. I received a call from my niece. I told you about her, I think.
- Yes, Fiona. You told me a lot about her! Did something happen to her?
D'Elvaren pushed back a few strands of hair that had escaped from her tight bun. Her lively look let us see her gratitude towards the concern of her teammate who was always benevolent and patient with her complicated and eclectic daily life. The blue eyes of her interlocutor never feigned the emotion they carried, as here the concern.
Evelyn gave him his phone and his earpiece, made him listen to the recording.
A slight smile soon bloomed on Jeanne's lips before she took a determined look.
- I know who it is, there is nothing to worry about.
The mirror near her desk, which was equipped with powerful runes, gave Evelyn a glimpse of a woman in armor, next to whom was a folded white flag with fleurs-de-lis.