Since there is, obviously, little interest in this work among the habitués
of this site and since I am finding it increasingly difficult to force my
imagination into the strait waistcoat of canonical correctness (and,
frankly, it's just not worth the effort with no feedback) – I shall stop
posting shortly when I have used the parts I have already prepared.
The only reason I am continuing at all is that I have a stubborn distaste for bailing out 'in medias res' and prefer to stop at a logical point.
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Chapter Three-Part One
Nooj looked around the claustrophobic confines of his quarters with a growing feeling of disgust. His Al Bhed Healers had finally admitted that they had done as much as they could to prepare him for his life with the implants that had enabled his current existence; therefore he was to be released to his own custody and the continued rehabilitation efforts of a combined Al Bhed – Crusader contingent of therapists and trainers. It had been decided that it would be better if he remained in Bevelle, living in one of the larger mansions within the city itself so that any required medical amenities would be readily at hand. The choices made on his behalf were not completely satisfying but escaping the hospital was his immediate goal. Once that was done, he felt he could consider himself freed also from his oath to the Obermaester.
"So, Beclem, we get out of this place next week. I'd rather go to another city but – one step at a time." Nooj looked with disgust at the room he had inhabited since his consciousness had returned. "I'm tired of being in this cage where anybody who wants to can wander in and take a look – It makes me feel like a freak in a side-show. One of the things I'll insist on when we get into a house is a room that can be locked and opened only by me."
"Good idea, I'll add that to the requirements. Isn't LeBlanc planning most of the renovations? Want me to tell her about your private room?"
"Don't bother; she'll be here before long; she hasn't missed a day."
Beclem laughed, "I think the lady is besotted with you. If you want to go to another city, I'm sure she'll take you to Guadosalam or that island I hear she owns. Why not ask her?"
"I think the lady is trying to prove a point or win a bet." Nooj was prickly on that subject. "No, Bevelle will do as well as any other until we can get out of the Council's hands altogether. Now go on and make sure nothing is likely to delay the move we've finally talked them into."
When Beclem had left, Nooj stood motionless for a short time, collecting his strength then moved as quickly as he could to the door and turned the thumb latch before anyone else could seek entrance. The latch wasn't very secure but it was the best available in this place and he required privacy for what he had to do. With a barely suppressed moan, he almost fell down onto the straight chair, which was the only one available, and bent over clutching his left arm. His fingers touched metal and ceramic but in his mind he felt flesh and bone - and pain. Pain ran from his fingertips to his clavicle and from his left foot to his mid-thigh. It was as though the vanished limbs haunted him with the ghosts of their destruction. He rocked back and forth with muffled gasps as he worked to strengthen the barriers in his mind that shunted the sensations away from his perception. Finally, he could feel himself regaining control and the sharpness of the pangs gradually abating. It had been a near thing; he had almost collapsed in front of Beclem and that would have been disastrous not only to his pride but also to his plans. Dizzy and weak from the effort to manage this additional problem, he leaned back as the expected knock came at the door.
"Just a minute," he called out, hurriedly recomposing his face before turning the lock. As he had anticipated, LeBlanc stood there, radiant with freshness in the stale atmosphere of the room.
"Good morning, love. Smile, I'm carrying your discharge papers. You'll be out of here in three days." She danced toward him, waving an envelope covered with official stamps.
"How did you manage that? I thought they were going to keep me caged for another full week. Miracle lady!"
She perched on the foot of the bed, glowing with triumph. "I called in some markers and found a firm that will finish the house ahead of schedule. With that the Council had no more acceptable reasons for stopping you."
"I'll use you as my advocate any time I need things done." He began sorting through the papers.
"I did have to agree to one more condition," LeBlanc added with some hesitation. "I hope you won't mind."
Instantly wary, Nooj paused and flung up his head, "What?"
"They were concerned about your setting up a household of Crusaders and slipping away from their influence. Mounfar threatened to put in a team of his own spies to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn't ...do something they didn't want you to do. So – to keep him from doing that - I told him I would live there too..." she looked at him pleadingly. She had no intention of telling him about her true arrangement with the Obermaester.
"I don't know who's the more devious – you or Mounfar.... You're planning to live in the same house?"
"It's a very big house." She was disingenuous.
"When you say you get what you want you're not joking. Just what are you up to, LeBlanc? You're planning to live in the same house with me – are you planning on sharing the same bed?" He glared at her over his spectacles.
She met his eyes defiantly, "Yes, I expect to do that. There's no reason I shouldn't. You can't be a monk for the rest of your life, so why not me? I've been totally honest with you all through this and I'm still honest. I've never made any effort to hide what I feel for you so you can't pretend to be surprised."
"'The rest of your life' – Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that phrase? The rest of my life ... everyone has plans for it except me and I don't want it." He swung his cane viciously at the chair, sending it flying across the room before he mastered his anger. "However, you're right; I can't say that you haven't given ample warning of your intentions even though I've told you that part of my life is finished. - Tell me, doesn't it bother you at all that: one - I don't love you; two - I'm only half human; three – you'll be making an exhibition of yourself?"
"You'll learn to love me; you are more human than any man I've ever known; and I've been on exhibition before. You can't scare me. What's more I don't believe you're done with what you call 'that part' of your life." She moved to where he stood, winding her white arms around his neck and drawing his face down to hers. "You might as well get used to kissing me. I'm very persistent."
"I've noticed." He did not resist her advances but pulled her closer and opened her lips with his. When at length he raised his head, he looked at her closely and demanded, "What makes you think you'll want to have machina in your bed?"
"It isn't machina, love, it's you. And – even if you won't believe it – I love you."
Nooj abruptly slid his right hand inside the deep neckline of her blouse and cupped her breast. "You love. ... How would you react, lady, if I did with you what you are inviting, now – there on that bed?" He felt her nipple respond and was surprised at the sharp lash of desire that curled around his own loins.
She caught her breath then closed her hand over his, holding him against her bared skin. Her voice trembled slightly as she retorted, "I've been trying to seduce you for more than a month. Do you really think I would resist you if you made love to me? Even here; even now?"
"It wouldn't be love," he muttered darkly under his breath, and then continued aloud. "I give up. It doesn't look like I can stop you from moving into the house you and the Council have prepared; after all, you own it. What happens after that - will happen. But remember I won't always be this circumscribed in my actions. ...And I expect you'll tire of your adventure soon enough." He released her and turned away.
She leaned against his back, arms around him, her hands spread like starfish on his chest, her head nuzzling between his shoulders. "You'll see, won't you? Now tell me your sizes so I can order some clothes for you to wear in our house."
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The townhouse in Bevelle that had been purchased for the Hero of Mount Gagazet was a roomy and comfortable place, by all accounts the largest private dwelling in the city. Originally erected as the home of a merchant prince, it had all the amenities anyone might need and with Al Bhed craftsmen refurbishing and updating all the mechanical devices, there was little reason for complaints. The lifts worked perfectly; the kitchens were supplied with both cooks and cooks' impedimenta to make feeding the large contingent which was to move in easy and convenient. The front of the basement was devoted to the housing and supply needs of the servants. A large contingent of Hypello - members of that odd race with the vaguely insectoid features and the bluish skin which had managed to survive by making itself indispensable to the more bellicose clans – had been hired and would sleep there except for the few who would be needed on the top floor around the clock to attend to the requirements of the master. The basement was also the location of the food preparation areas, the firing range and some training facilities for the armed force that would provide privacy and security for the principal inhabitants. The first floor held the reception rooms, the dining room and other public places as well as - in the back, behind a baize door- housing adequate for the small army of attendants, guards, trainers and so on.
The second floor had been gutted and turned into a state of the art rehabilitation center with every exercise device the Al Bhed could dream up, a massage room, special baths and the separate 'meditation' room Nooj had requested for his exclusive use with both a private lock and extensive sound-proofing. This room would serve for him the same purpose as his private place in his homeland. The walls of the meditation room were lined with books and leather furnishings were carefully arranged near heavy tables and lamps. There was both a full-length couch – specifically constructed to accommodate Nooj's height - and a large desk with locking drawers. Heavy draperies hid the windows and kept the room restfully dim on the brightest of days.
On the top floor was the master's private apartment. This floor was designed as a wide rectangle with a sitting room in the center connecting by a short corridor to the lift. On the left side, as you faced the front of the house were Nooj's rooms: a large bed-room, a dressing room and a bath especially developed for his particular needs by the Al Bhed engineers. To the right was a similar, somewhat less expansive suite, that LeBlanc had furnished for her own use. The common room was supplied with tables and chairs so that it could be used for meals, entertaining, or simply relaxing. A large, lavishly cushioned divan was the centerpiece, placed to command the excellent view from the central window and its balcony. All the furniture, except that in LeBlanc's suite had been chosen and, where necessary, modified to make it possible for Nooj to use it without undue effort.
Clustered near the lift shaft were several small rooms for as yet undefined purposes; it had been assumed that the two fierce individuals who would live on this level would quickly find a use for more space. This floor was open only to its residents and their servants. The Hypello would care for the area as a whole and Nooj in particular while LeBlanc was to bring a single maid to attend her personal needs. All had been overseen by the Maesters when they finally agreed to release their prize to what amounted to a half-way house. The combined talents of the Council and the Syndicate left nothing to chance.
LeBlanc had actually purchased the house, although that was as yet not widely known; she had also provided most of the modifications after consulting with Nooj. He was unaware of the purpose behind the many questions she posed him, thinking that she was only attempting to divert him from his increasing impatience with his velvet imprisonment in the hospital. The result was that the second floor could be easily transformed from therapy to exercise when required so that he need not make public appearances until he was ready.
The Maesters had protested that no practice in weapons' use was necessary for their trophy; he was not meant to return to battle and thus his priorities should lie in the fields of diplomacy and oratory. Nooj had rejected that suggestion instantly and with prejudice. Therefore, the makings of a fully equipped gymnasium and martial training facility were stored in the basement, ready to be installed when the therapy apparatus was done with. At least, that was the idea; Nooj had quietly ordered that the second floor was to be made immediately ready for its second use as well as its first.
Nooj had arrived early in the morning, before the sun was up. A last minute interview with Mounfar had laid out the parameters of his release. He had been required to renew and enlarge his oath to the Obermaester, promising that he would remain quietly in the city until a time to be specified later; in return, the priest had sworn to leave him alone and not interfere with his activities so long as they did not constitute a threat to the order of the Council. It was intended that his presence in the house be secret; worshipping crowds were not yet part of the Maesters' schemes. They had carefully leaked the information that he still lived to a select few, knowing those who could be counted on to spread the news in a manner that could not be traced back. Plans to present him to the world as a miraculously revived symbol of the unparalleled, merciful powers of the Church and the inspiration for the eventual defeat of Sin would be made final as soon as seemed feasible. This pale, bespectacled man with the awkward, halting gait was not what they wanted the masses to see just yet. Another half-year in the townhouse should prepare him for his debut as the Truly Undying hope of Spira.
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The therapy floor was bustling with activity. Mats were placed with exact precision and then moved to be repositioned exactly. The machines, which would mechanically exercise the body, were checked and recalibrated. Al Bhed engineers, green eyes glittering, were swarming like a disturbed nest of Ocelli. Beclem stood in the midst of the chaos, directing the placement of a rack of firearms.
"Get those swords out of here; we won't be using them. Not for a while, if ever," he shouted to a small group of Crusaders who were setting up the armament section of the floor.
"What about the knives?"
"OK. Leave them. They may be useful. No! Take those mats down to the firing range. Where? In the basement, you idiot. The body armor goes over there"
"When will the captain get here, Beclem?" It was one of the squadron.
"He's here already - upstairs but don't forget to keep your mouth shut. Nobody except us is supposed to know he's here. In case you don't follow the news, this is supposed to be a secret. Top secret."
As he spun around to check the alarm system, Beclem became aware of a figure at the door to the staircase. Nooj stood there, leaning heavily on his cane as he took in the activity.
"So this is where I learn to be a Warrior again?"
"Why didn't you use the lift?" Beclem was flushed with impatience and concern.
"The reason for my being here is to recover and attain a certain degree of agility, is it not?" Nooj's voice was strained. He swayed slightly but regained his balance almost at once. Beclem rushed to his side, arm ready to catch him.
"Get away from me," it was a soft snarl. "I can manage; I must manage. Leave me alone."
Silently the crew of technicians and workmen turned back to their work. The Crusaders had long since learned and the engineers were learning to avoid the man when he was in this sort of mood. Beclem pretended to check the balance of a throwing knife while Droga dry-fired a freeze gun.
When Nooj turned back to the staircase with the obvious intent of continuing his inspection of the house, Beclem soundlessly followed him. On the first floor, the two men made the circuit of the various rooms, Nooj mentally filing away locations as he painfully moved from the dining room to the library to the game room. Finally, he paused and sank into a chair near the card table. Beclem, who had propped himself discreetly against the far wall, looked at his old friend and leader with considerable concern. Nooj's face was blanched and there was the sheen of moisture on his forehead. His hand on the arm of the chair trembled; it seemed to be requiring enormous effort just to sit upright. Beclem saw the tendons standing out in his captain's throat just as his eyes closed and he slumped to the left.
Springing to the alarm button, one of several installed on each floor, Beclem frantically summoned help. Two healers were in the room almost immediately, bending over the unconscious man checking his pulse, raising an eyelid.
"It's just a faint. Too much exertion too soon." One of the healers cast a quick revive spell and the sharp reek of ammonia filled the room. Nooj's eyes flickered open as he became aware of the furor around him. Coughing from the fumes, he struggled to pull himself straight in the chair shrugging off Beclem's arm.
"Let go of me; I'm all right," he rasped. "This is stupid; I don't need this." The healers tactfully stepped back, watching carefully to make sure they were no longer needed.
"Captain, listen to me. You can't do it all at once. Take it slower. Remember how we used to train the boys in the squad. Slow and steady. Build the strength slow and steady. You're just out of that hospital place – that prison - and we can move at our own pace here just like we used to at home. There's no hurry. Tomorrow is soon enough to start the hard training."
"You're probably right. It's been a busy day already and I have to confess I'm not quite back to my usual vigor. I'll just sit here and rest for a little longer and go upstairs to my room."
"That's good," there was a pause as Beclem considered, "When is her ladyship moving in?"
Nooj glared suspiciously at his lieutenant from beneath his brow. "How did you learn she was coming here? I didn't tell you."
With a blush, the trainer replied, "It's pretty well known that the Obermaester gave her permission. Anyway, you know her motto."
Nooj waved the healers away dismissively. "I am constantly surprised at the speed with which gossip travels in Bevelle. LeBlanc will be here tomorrow evening. Why?"
"Well, I was just thinking it might be a good thing for you to take tomorrow off, rest, like... Stay on the top floor all day and relax. I'll send her up when she arrives and you can amuse yourself and we'll start the real work the day after when you are more...."
"Stop! That's quite enough. ...You made your understanding of the situation clear back before we came here. I don't intend to explain things to you any further.... Though I do have to admit that you're right about the training. And the prison. From one prison to another, eh, old friend? From the hospital to this mansion and we're still not free to go where we like, do as we please. Mounfar has made it obvious that the promise he extracted from me in the hospital still holds; it was one of his conditions for my release. Beclem, I don't know when I'm going to be rid of that man and his demands. Let's abandon this whole project and run for home." Anjh abruptly stopped himself. "...All right, I've pushed too hard and acted like an idiot. If you're going to be my trainer, I'll have to learn to listen to you. Now, will you give me your arm? I'm going to try out my new meditation room. Yes, this time I'll use the lift. I don't have to learn the same thing twice."
The only reason I am continuing at all is that I have a stubborn distaste for bailing out 'in medias res' and prefer to stop at a logical point.
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Chapter Three-Part One
Nooj looked around the claustrophobic confines of his quarters with a growing feeling of disgust. His Al Bhed Healers had finally admitted that they had done as much as they could to prepare him for his life with the implants that had enabled his current existence; therefore he was to be released to his own custody and the continued rehabilitation efforts of a combined Al Bhed – Crusader contingent of therapists and trainers. It had been decided that it would be better if he remained in Bevelle, living in one of the larger mansions within the city itself so that any required medical amenities would be readily at hand. The choices made on his behalf were not completely satisfying but escaping the hospital was his immediate goal. Once that was done, he felt he could consider himself freed also from his oath to the Obermaester.
"So, Beclem, we get out of this place next week. I'd rather go to another city but – one step at a time." Nooj looked with disgust at the room he had inhabited since his consciousness had returned. "I'm tired of being in this cage where anybody who wants to can wander in and take a look – It makes me feel like a freak in a side-show. One of the things I'll insist on when we get into a house is a room that can be locked and opened only by me."
"Good idea, I'll add that to the requirements. Isn't LeBlanc planning most of the renovations? Want me to tell her about your private room?"
"Don't bother; she'll be here before long; she hasn't missed a day."
Beclem laughed, "I think the lady is besotted with you. If you want to go to another city, I'm sure she'll take you to Guadosalam or that island I hear she owns. Why not ask her?"
"I think the lady is trying to prove a point or win a bet." Nooj was prickly on that subject. "No, Bevelle will do as well as any other until we can get out of the Council's hands altogether. Now go on and make sure nothing is likely to delay the move we've finally talked them into."
When Beclem had left, Nooj stood motionless for a short time, collecting his strength then moved as quickly as he could to the door and turned the thumb latch before anyone else could seek entrance. The latch wasn't very secure but it was the best available in this place and he required privacy for what he had to do. With a barely suppressed moan, he almost fell down onto the straight chair, which was the only one available, and bent over clutching his left arm. His fingers touched metal and ceramic but in his mind he felt flesh and bone - and pain. Pain ran from his fingertips to his clavicle and from his left foot to his mid-thigh. It was as though the vanished limbs haunted him with the ghosts of their destruction. He rocked back and forth with muffled gasps as he worked to strengthen the barriers in his mind that shunted the sensations away from his perception. Finally, he could feel himself regaining control and the sharpness of the pangs gradually abating. It had been a near thing; he had almost collapsed in front of Beclem and that would have been disastrous not only to his pride but also to his plans. Dizzy and weak from the effort to manage this additional problem, he leaned back as the expected knock came at the door.
"Just a minute," he called out, hurriedly recomposing his face before turning the lock. As he had anticipated, LeBlanc stood there, radiant with freshness in the stale atmosphere of the room.
"Good morning, love. Smile, I'm carrying your discharge papers. You'll be out of here in three days." She danced toward him, waving an envelope covered with official stamps.
"How did you manage that? I thought they were going to keep me caged for another full week. Miracle lady!"
She perched on the foot of the bed, glowing with triumph. "I called in some markers and found a firm that will finish the house ahead of schedule. With that the Council had no more acceptable reasons for stopping you."
"I'll use you as my advocate any time I need things done." He began sorting through the papers.
"I did have to agree to one more condition," LeBlanc added with some hesitation. "I hope you won't mind."
Instantly wary, Nooj paused and flung up his head, "What?"
"They were concerned about your setting up a household of Crusaders and slipping away from their influence. Mounfar threatened to put in a team of his own spies to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn't ...do something they didn't want you to do. So – to keep him from doing that - I told him I would live there too..." she looked at him pleadingly. She had no intention of telling him about her true arrangement with the Obermaester.
"I don't know who's the more devious – you or Mounfar.... You're planning to live in the same house?"
"It's a very big house." She was disingenuous.
"When you say you get what you want you're not joking. Just what are you up to, LeBlanc? You're planning to live in the same house with me – are you planning on sharing the same bed?" He glared at her over his spectacles.
She met his eyes defiantly, "Yes, I expect to do that. There's no reason I shouldn't. You can't be a monk for the rest of your life, so why not me? I've been totally honest with you all through this and I'm still honest. I've never made any effort to hide what I feel for you so you can't pretend to be surprised."
"'The rest of your life' – Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that phrase? The rest of my life ... everyone has plans for it except me and I don't want it." He swung his cane viciously at the chair, sending it flying across the room before he mastered his anger. "However, you're right; I can't say that you haven't given ample warning of your intentions even though I've told you that part of my life is finished. - Tell me, doesn't it bother you at all that: one - I don't love you; two - I'm only half human; three – you'll be making an exhibition of yourself?"
"You'll learn to love me; you are more human than any man I've ever known; and I've been on exhibition before. You can't scare me. What's more I don't believe you're done with what you call 'that part' of your life." She moved to where he stood, winding her white arms around his neck and drawing his face down to hers. "You might as well get used to kissing me. I'm very persistent."
"I've noticed." He did not resist her advances but pulled her closer and opened her lips with his. When at length he raised his head, he looked at her closely and demanded, "What makes you think you'll want to have machina in your bed?"
"It isn't machina, love, it's you. And – even if you won't believe it – I love you."
Nooj abruptly slid his right hand inside the deep neckline of her blouse and cupped her breast. "You love. ... How would you react, lady, if I did with you what you are inviting, now – there on that bed?" He felt her nipple respond and was surprised at the sharp lash of desire that curled around his own loins.
She caught her breath then closed her hand over his, holding him against her bared skin. Her voice trembled slightly as she retorted, "I've been trying to seduce you for more than a month. Do you really think I would resist you if you made love to me? Even here; even now?"
"It wouldn't be love," he muttered darkly under his breath, and then continued aloud. "I give up. It doesn't look like I can stop you from moving into the house you and the Council have prepared; after all, you own it. What happens after that - will happen. But remember I won't always be this circumscribed in my actions. ...And I expect you'll tire of your adventure soon enough." He released her and turned away.
She leaned against his back, arms around him, her hands spread like starfish on his chest, her head nuzzling between his shoulders. "You'll see, won't you? Now tell me your sizes so I can order some clothes for you to wear in our house."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The townhouse in Bevelle that had been purchased for the Hero of Mount Gagazet was a roomy and comfortable place, by all accounts the largest private dwelling in the city. Originally erected as the home of a merchant prince, it had all the amenities anyone might need and with Al Bhed craftsmen refurbishing and updating all the mechanical devices, there was little reason for complaints. The lifts worked perfectly; the kitchens were supplied with both cooks and cooks' impedimenta to make feeding the large contingent which was to move in easy and convenient. The front of the basement was devoted to the housing and supply needs of the servants. A large contingent of Hypello - members of that odd race with the vaguely insectoid features and the bluish skin which had managed to survive by making itself indispensable to the more bellicose clans – had been hired and would sleep there except for the few who would be needed on the top floor around the clock to attend to the requirements of the master. The basement was also the location of the food preparation areas, the firing range and some training facilities for the armed force that would provide privacy and security for the principal inhabitants. The first floor held the reception rooms, the dining room and other public places as well as - in the back, behind a baize door- housing adequate for the small army of attendants, guards, trainers and so on.
The second floor had been gutted and turned into a state of the art rehabilitation center with every exercise device the Al Bhed could dream up, a massage room, special baths and the separate 'meditation' room Nooj had requested for his exclusive use with both a private lock and extensive sound-proofing. This room would serve for him the same purpose as his private place in his homeland. The walls of the meditation room were lined with books and leather furnishings were carefully arranged near heavy tables and lamps. There was both a full-length couch – specifically constructed to accommodate Nooj's height - and a large desk with locking drawers. Heavy draperies hid the windows and kept the room restfully dim on the brightest of days.
On the top floor was the master's private apartment. This floor was designed as a wide rectangle with a sitting room in the center connecting by a short corridor to the lift. On the left side, as you faced the front of the house were Nooj's rooms: a large bed-room, a dressing room and a bath especially developed for his particular needs by the Al Bhed engineers. To the right was a similar, somewhat less expansive suite, that LeBlanc had furnished for her own use. The common room was supplied with tables and chairs so that it could be used for meals, entertaining, or simply relaxing. A large, lavishly cushioned divan was the centerpiece, placed to command the excellent view from the central window and its balcony. All the furniture, except that in LeBlanc's suite had been chosen and, where necessary, modified to make it possible for Nooj to use it without undue effort.
Clustered near the lift shaft were several small rooms for as yet undefined purposes; it had been assumed that the two fierce individuals who would live on this level would quickly find a use for more space. This floor was open only to its residents and their servants. The Hypello would care for the area as a whole and Nooj in particular while LeBlanc was to bring a single maid to attend her personal needs. All had been overseen by the Maesters when they finally agreed to release their prize to what amounted to a half-way house. The combined talents of the Council and the Syndicate left nothing to chance.
LeBlanc had actually purchased the house, although that was as yet not widely known; she had also provided most of the modifications after consulting with Nooj. He was unaware of the purpose behind the many questions she posed him, thinking that she was only attempting to divert him from his increasing impatience with his velvet imprisonment in the hospital. The result was that the second floor could be easily transformed from therapy to exercise when required so that he need not make public appearances until he was ready.
The Maesters had protested that no practice in weapons' use was necessary for their trophy; he was not meant to return to battle and thus his priorities should lie in the fields of diplomacy and oratory. Nooj had rejected that suggestion instantly and with prejudice. Therefore, the makings of a fully equipped gymnasium and martial training facility were stored in the basement, ready to be installed when the therapy apparatus was done with. At least, that was the idea; Nooj had quietly ordered that the second floor was to be made immediately ready for its second use as well as its first.
Nooj had arrived early in the morning, before the sun was up. A last minute interview with Mounfar had laid out the parameters of his release. He had been required to renew and enlarge his oath to the Obermaester, promising that he would remain quietly in the city until a time to be specified later; in return, the priest had sworn to leave him alone and not interfere with his activities so long as they did not constitute a threat to the order of the Council. It was intended that his presence in the house be secret; worshipping crowds were not yet part of the Maesters' schemes. They had carefully leaked the information that he still lived to a select few, knowing those who could be counted on to spread the news in a manner that could not be traced back. Plans to present him to the world as a miraculously revived symbol of the unparalleled, merciful powers of the Church and the inspiration for the eventual defeat of Sin would be made final as soon as seemed feasible. This pale, bespectacled man with the awkward, halting gait was not what they wanted the masses to see just yet. Another half-year in the townhouse should prepare him for his debut as the Truly Undying hope of Spira.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The therapy floor was bustling with activity. Mats were placed with exact precision and then moved to be repositioned exactly. The machines, which would mechanically exercise the body, were checked and recalibrated. Al Bhed engineers, green eyes glittering, were swarming like a disturbed nest of Ocelli. Beclem stood in the midst of the chaos, directing the placement of a rack of firearms.
"Get those swords out of here; we won't be using them. Not for a while, if ever," he shouted to a small group of Crusaders who were setting up the armament section of the floor.
"What about the knives?"
"OK. Leave them. They may be useful. No! Take those mats down to the firing range. Where? In the basement, you idiot. The body armor goes over there"
"When will the captain get here, Beclem?" It was one of the squadron.
"He's here already - upstairs but don't forget to keep your mouth shut. Nobody except us is supposed to know he's here. In case you don't follow the news, this is supposed to be a secret. Top secret."
As he spun around to check the alarm system, Beclem became aware of a figure at the door to the staircase. Nooj stood there, leaning heavily on his cane as he took in the activity.
"So this is where I learn to be a Warrior again?"
"Why didn't you use the lift?" Beclem was flushed with impatience and concern.
"The reason for my being here is to recover and attain a certain degree of agility, is it not?" Nooj's voice was strained. He swayed slightly but regained his balance almost at once. Beclem rushed to his side, arm ready to catch him.
"Get away from me," it was a soft snarl. "I can manage; I must manage. Leave me alone."
Silently the crew of technicians and workmen turned back to their work. The Crusaders had long since learned and the engineers were learning to avoid the man when he was in this sort of mood. Beclem pretended to check the balance of a throwing knife while Droga dry-fired a freeze gun.
When Nooj turned back to the staircase with the obvious intent of continuing his inspection of the house, Beclem soundlessly followed him. On the first floor, the two men made the circuit of the various rooms, Nooj mentally filing away locations as he painfully moved from the dining room to the library to the game room. Finally, he paused and sank into a chair near the card table. Beclem, who had propped himself discreetly against the far wall, looked at his old friend and leader with considerable concern. Nooj's face was blanched and there was the sheen of moisture on his forehead. His hand on the arm of the chair trembled; it seemed to be requiring enormous effort just to sit upright. Beclem saw the tendons standing out in his captain's throat just as his eyes closed and he slumped to the left.
Springing to the alarm button, one of several installed on each floor, Beclem frantically summoned help. Two healers were in the room almost immediately, bending over the unconscious man checking his pulse, raising an eyelid.
"It's just a faint. Too much exertion too soon." One of the healers cast a quick revive spell and the sharp reek of ammonia filled the room. Nooj's eyes flickered open as he became aware of the furor around him. Coughing from the fumes, he struggled to pull himself straight in the chair shrugging off Beclem's arm.
"Let go of me; I'm all right," he rasped. "This is stupid; I don't need this." The healers tactfully stepped back, watching carefully to make sure they were no longer needed.
"Captain, listen to me. You can't do it all at once. Take it slower. Remember how we used to train the boys in the squad. Slow and steady. Build the strength slow and steady. You're just out of that hospital place – that prison - and we can move at our own pace here just like we used to at home. There's no hurry. Tomorrow is soon enough to start the hard training."
"You're probably right. It's been a busy day already and I have to confess I'm not quite back to my usual vigor. I'll just sit here and rest for a little longer and go upstairs to my room."
"That's good," there was a pause as Beclem considered, "When is her ladyship moving in?"
Nooj glared suspiciously at his lieutenant from beneath his brow. "How did you learn she was coming here? I didn't tell you."
With a blush, the trainer replied, "It's pretty well known that the Obermaester gave her permission. Anyway, you know her motto."
Nooj waved the healers away dismissively. "I am constantly surprised at the speed with which gossip travels in Bevelle. LeBlanc will be here tomorrow evening. Why?"
"Well, I was just thinking it might be a good thing for you to take tomorrow off, rest, like... Stay on the top floor all day and relax. I'll send her up when she arrives and you can amuse yourself and we'll start the real work the day after when you are more...."
"Stop! That's quite enough. ...You made your understanding of the situation clear back before we came here. I don't intend to explain things to you any further.... Though I do have to admit that you're right about the training. And the prison. From one prison to another, eh, old friend? From the hospital to this mansion and we're still not free to go where we like, do as we please. Mounfar has made it obvious that the promise he extracted from me in the hospital still holds; it was one of his conditions for my release. Beclem, I don't know when I'm going to be rid of that man and his demands. Let's abandon this whole project and run for home." Anjh abruptly stopped himself. "...All right, I've pushed too hard and acted like an idiot. If you're going to be my trainer, I'll have to learn to listen to you. Now, will you give me your arm? I'm going to try out my new meditation room. Yes, this time I'll use the lift. I don't have to learn the same thing twice."