Glinda smiled as she moved through the social. It was made up of all the more influential Barons around Frottica (and her less than enthusiastic supporters). As such, it was being held at a villa in Frottica proper. It was the old style of multiple floors and walled off (but connected to) the surrounding town. The inside itself was done in the finest style of old Gillikin. Glancing around, Glinda briefly met Wynne' eyes.
Wynne and the dozen Dogs of War that accompanied her were on the outside of the social. Clad in doublets with Glinda's crest and colors, they chatted with the other retainers of the households. As per tradition, all were armed but with sashes and ropes "peace" tying the weapons. Granted, they would be easy to slip off, but no one actually expected there to be any combat. Wynne yawned as Glinda looked at her, and gave a bashful smile at the blonde's disapproving eyebrows.
Glinda returned to the party. Most of the local Barons knew each other, and they certainly knew of Glinda. However, as the year was coming to a close they were more than happy to mingle; especially since Glinda was paying a portion. A Countess and her entourage approached as Glinda was speaking to a local Baron. That was a little strange, and the bracelets she wore were clunky and out of fashion by many years. Glinda guessed she was of less wealthy nobility. She smiled and engaged with the woman.
Wynne watched the woman approach. There was something off about her. She could not place her finger on it, and was not going to cause an issue without certainty. However, as Glinda turned away to speak to someone else, the woman turned to one of her companions. Something triggered in Wynne's brain and she began moving in that direction. Only when she began to cross the room did she realize that normal convention would have been for the Countess to move away.
A retainer stepped in her way. Wynne suppressed a frown.
"Excuse me." she said politely and sidestepped him. However, he moved in front of her.
"Excuse me, but you are not allowed on the floor." he stiffly replied.
"I am the Lady Glinda's personal retainer." was Wynne's sharp rebuke. "As such, yes I am."
"I am sorry, Ma'am." he answered just as sharply. "You are not."
"Does this household not follow the Third Rules of Gillikin Etiquette as laid down by Francis Pierre?" Wynne asked, the volume of her voice rising. Several of the Barons turned towards her. The Dogs tensed as well. Ronce's eyes narrowed. The retainer blanched and looked around.
"Ah, yes, of course-"
"Then as you know," Wynne continued, "that Ladies at any function are able to have a personal handmaid that is able to cross into the Lords' Circle on business for them."
"You are the Lady Glinda's handmaid?" asked the retainer incredulously.
"I'm quite talented and well trained." Wynne paused, and then remarked snidely, "Much better than some it appears."
"Uh-"
"Now, are you going to move, sir, or is there an issue?" Wynne's voice pitched threateningly.
"Well, yes. There is an issue." the retainer replied darkly, and pushed her.
Several of the surrounding lords and ladies gasped, but more did not. That instantly told Wynne something was wrong. Using the man's momentum to give her distance, her hands idly undid the peace tie on her sword. Good as she did; many of the retainers around the hall had loosed their own swords. The man in front of her drew his, but Wynne was better trained. In a single motion she stepped forward, drew, and cut his throat. He went down gurgling. Others stepped up to press the Dogs. By that point, it was obvious that this was planned.
Glinda spun at the commotion. Seeing the drawn blades and arms, she began to weave her magic. It would be difficult in the enclosed confines, and her dress would be absolutely ruined, but a large air blast would knock everyone down and be able to make their escape. She scanned the crowd with her witchsight. No other magic users. A poor decision.
Suddenly her world went dull. Glinda blinked to clear the dust from her eyes but nothing changed. Reaching for her woven spell, it was not there at her command. Glinda gasped as she registered the sensation of steel around her wrists. She spun to look at the Countess she had been speaking to. The woman had a catlike grin.
"Magic suppressing cuffs. I truly didn't believe they existed. How marvelous." she gloated.
Glinda surged forward, but the cuffs were their namesake. Chained together and bound to another chain, a footman gave it a yank, pulling her back. Glinda winced at the pain.
"How nice. How about another?" the Countess asked sadistically. Glinda's heart dropped.
"Enough." barked a Baron. From his military cut and the men surrounding him he was obviously the martial sort. "We agreed on capturing her unharmed."
"A little yank won't damage her." the woman retorted.
"I said enough." The man moved forward. The Countess' own retainer shrank back. "I'll remind you she is a Baroness of Gillikin in her own right and will be accorded as such."
"Rank means nothing now." the Countess spat.
"Rank always means something, or it means nothing." the Baron answered coldly. He motioned with one hand. A young man, no more than into adulthood, moved forward. He took the chain from the Countess' retainer.
"Please, Baron, let my retainers go." Glinda begged. "Please."
"I cannot." He turned cold eyes on her. "You are to be confirmed dead after dissidents attack the party. That means your people must die."
"I thought I was not to be harmed?" Glinda gasped.
"You are not. Things have been arranged. Now, let's take her away."
"Come, Miss Glinda." The young man said. He motioned to a door. She hesitated, but he gave a gentle tug on the chain. Nodding, she moved that way with one last look to the embattled Dogs.
"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." Wynne swore as she was pushed back to the other Dogs. They were wounded, but the close quarters made it harder for their opponents to fight them and not wound each other. Not so for the Dogs, who outskilled them as well. "They're taking her!"
"Focus, Wynne!" Ronce snapped. He blocked a sword strike with the barrel of his pistol, taking a cut to his forearm in the process. "Why isn't she using her magic?"
"Something about those cuffs!" Wynne answered as she cut her opponent. He fell back clutching his chest.
"Servant's door behind us." Ronce growled low. "When we fire, get out. And that's an order."
Wynne growled in response but readied herself. Ronce deflected another blow, and yelled.
"Dogs, fire! Cry Havoc!"
The room disappeared in light and smoke. Wynne coughed, but banged open the door with her foot. Dropping her sword, she slipped through. Off went the doublet, thrown into a dark corner. The sash was wound round her hair. Tugging on her chemise, it came up out of her pants and flowed down, covering her to her ankles. A quick snatch of an apron as she passed by one hanging and a grabbed laundry bag completed her disguise. Wynne slowed her pace, slowed her breathing, and made for a servants' entrance. Glancing out, the carriages were being readied. None glanced in her direction. Taking another deep breath, she stepped into the cobblestones and made away like any other working woman in Gillikin.
Wynne burned to head towards the estate, or to send a runner. If they were brazen enough to attack Glinda, they would surely go for the Dogs as well. However, she knew either they were already ahead of her, or would be watching. Her sending any messages that way would be pointless, and even eliminate the one chance to save Glinda. So though her heart yearned to head to her comrades, her feet took her towards the one destination that stood a chance to save Glinda. It took her to the train station. Not a couple hours later, she was on her way to Shiz.
As class filed out, Pfannee turned her head to the one person in the room that should not be. It had taken all of her willpower to finish class as if nothing was wrong when the red haired woman's presence screamed that everything was. As the last students left, Pfannee went to the door and locked it. Muttering a silencing spell, she turned to her.
"You bode ill."
"They took Glinda." Wynne answered.
"Who took Glinda?" Pfannee asked after her heart skipped a beat. She knew the words were coming but they still affected her.
"Some Barons of Gillikin. They ambushed her at a social."
"And you all let it happen?" Pfannee growled. Wynne was suddenly in the blonde's face with a look to kill. Pfannee returned it.
"They're all dead." Wynne hissed. "All my comrades at the social died so I could get out, and instead of warning the others at the estate I came here, damning them all."
"So you ran like a coward." Pfannee snapped.
"Watch your tongue, witch, or I'll cut it out."
"Bold words."
"Let me remind you she sent you away because she did not trust you." Wynne answered. "Otherwise she would have kept you at her side."
"You tell yourself whatever lies you need to make up for your failure."
Before she could react, Pfanne was lifted from her feet and slammed against the wall. With the air knocked out of her, she could not even summon a spell to her aid. Though she knew some rougher arts, she was far outclassed by Wynne.
"I came to you, assassin, because I thought you'd be loyal at least to a kind master." Wynne breathed in her face. "Your skills are what I need to have a chance at saving her. If you don't agree, you'll be the first in my vengeance."
"I see you're not completely stupid." Pfannee snapped. Summoning a light wind spell, she pushed the swordswoman back . "Charging in will just get you killed."
"I know my craft."
"Then tell me how with your swords and her magic she managed to get captured." Pfannee questioned. "I can't imagine you let them knock her out or get a gun near her."
"Magic suppressing cuffs." Wynne answered coldly. "Some noble tart was wearing them like fashion pieces and snapped them on her. I noticed something strange, but was too late."
"And while that may be your sin, that is not your fault." Pfannee began to pace. "Those were a favorite piece of Morrible's. Very few knew about them."
"Could Morrible have faked her death?" asked Wynne. Pfannee shook her head.
"No. I made sure she was dead." Pfannee answered distantly. She stopped after a moment. "That does not get back to Glinda."
"If we get her back, it is forgotten." Wynne answered. "If not, I'm sure it won't measure."
"Quite." Pfannee stopped. Pressing fists into her eyes, she rubbed them for a moment. Giving her cheeks a few quick slaps, she turned to Wynne. "I...apologize for my reaction."
"Apologize?" Wynne gaped.
"Yes. It was...wrong of me."
"...Glinda's training must be paying off."
Pfannee huffed.
"Being around civilized society, and my lover, has illuminated my rougher nature. She at least has endeavored to correct it."
"Your apology is accepted." Wynne answered. She waved a hand. "I...may have said some things too. Hot temper, and all that."
"Truly." Pfannee nodded. "Now, our next steps. Do we know where they took Glinda?"
"No. But as they escorted her out I heard them say she was to be unharmed."
"That's good." Pfannee looked her over. "Are there any more contacts of yours that can help us?"
"A lot. But it will take some time to reach them and organize."
"Get on it. That's your job, and laying low."
"How am I supposed to do that at a time like this?" Wynne protested.
"Because they'll be counting the bodies and trying to see who got free. And frankly, you're not inconspicuous. If you were, you would not have come to me. Let me do the skullduggery."
"Fine." Wynne huffed. "But isn't there someone else we should contact?"
"You mean Elphaba?" Pfannee asked.
"Yeah. She should know."
"Elphaba is exactly what we don't need right now."
"And how is that?" Wynne raised an eyebrow. "Ridiculously strong sorcerer with an overprotective streak for Glinda doesn't seem wrong."
"Yeah, and she'll burn down half of Gillikin to get Glinda back."
"Still not seeing the issue."
"Because if that's step one, step two is they kill Glinda." Pfannee replied. "We cannot make it less harmful for Glinda to be dead than it is advantageous to keep her alive."
"We still need to tell her."
"Of course; after we find Glinda and can point her in the direction of the city to level."
"So what else are we going to do?"
"You're going to come with me to my flat."
"Won't that be noticeable? You taking some woman to your flat?" Wynne asked. Pfannee grinned.
"No different than every other week where a brunette comes to my flat."
"I'm not a...shit." Wynne said and closed her eyes. "Go ahead."
Pfannee waved her hand and the hair peeking out under the wrapped cloth turned a darker shade. The blonde cocked her head to the side.
"Not a fan." was a determination.
"Nor am I." Wynne replied. "Okay, we go to your flat. Then what?"
"Then I contact my associates. Quite a few are on campus, and one is in the class you dropped into. I've no doubt she will be waiting for us when we get there."
"Okay, girl squad is gathered. Then what?"
"Then one who is good at the game will go north to get eyes on Glinda and let us track her. You, me, and the rest will game plan. Send messages and the like. From there, we plan a moment to strike."
Wynne nodded.
"Okay. But I want you to do me a favor."
"What's that?" Pfannee asked.
"I need to send a message to the estate to see if any lived." Wynne paused. "Is there a way to make sure it isn't intercepted?"
"I can send it to a person who is alive and conscious, and make sure only they can read it." Pfannee nodded. "I can also include a little magic with it to have them send a return. But if they don't within twenty-four hours it will fade."
Wynne nodded. Pfanne could tell the other woman relaxed a little.
"Thank you." Wynne paused. "Let's get to work, then.
"Okay, so let's talk details." Wynne said.
Besides the two women, three others stood around the table of Pfannee's flat. Locasta, the Adept of the East, had light brown hair and golden skin; Gloma of the South had dark brown hair but also Munchkinlander features; and Singra of the City had dark red hair and pale skin.
Pfannee raised eyebrows.
"Who put you in charge?"
"Are we really going to do this?" asked Locasta. "Glinda needs our help now. We can't bicker over who's in charge."
"She's right." Singa agreed. Nodding in Wynne's direction, she added, "And so is she. Details?"
"Locasta will go north." Pfannee said. "Being well traveled and in her thirties she should be able to blend into northern Gillikin as just any other working woman. It really should be me, but if I take a leave of absence it will be noticeable."
"Where will I be based out of?" Locasta asked.
"Wittica. I've got a close friend there." Pfannee answered.
"Brunette?" Wynne prodded. The harsh look on Pfannee's face told her the answer.
"I'll write a letter for you." Pfannee continued. "She knows our business well enough to stay out of it. However, being of noblesse also means she'll be able to provide connections and some leads."
"Funds?" Locasta inquired. Pfannee sighed.
"Enough to get you there but...ask Shenshen for that too." No one mentioned the woman's use of the name. "Tell her I'll pay her back."
"What's my role?" asked Gloma.
"Stay here and be a student." Pfannee replied. Gloma scowled. "Not for naught. Students and the lower classes gossip. If they pass by Locasta we have to catch them here. Sold out trains; strange carriage caravans; troop movements; anything out of the ordinary that would say they're moving her. They'll talk to you more than me as a teacher. I'll keep my ear on everyone above."
"And that means I'm going somewhere." Singra concluded. Pfannee nodded.
"Back to the City, end of the line. You'll have to be out of class, but since it is only you and not Gloma and I as well it should not raise suspicion."
"That means I'll have to redo this year." Singra sighed. Pfannee rolled her eyes.
"So dreadful."
"And I shall rally the Dogs?" confirmed Wynne. Pfannee nodded.
"Have a place?"
"There's what was to be our winter quarters in the Pertha Hills, but that's too far if we need to move fast."
"How quickly could you collect them?" asked Pfannee. Wynne sighed.
"Probably a couple weeks for a handful, but for a larger force would take months."
"Hmm."
A light breeze filtered into the room. It was accompanied by a letter appearing and settling in the desk. Wynne's eyebrows rose.
"That was fast." she commented. The others watched her pick it up and open it. After a moment she let out a snort.
"Good news?" asked Pfannee. Wynne nodded.
"Of sorts."
"Well?"
"I'm going to need your services again to reply."
"I meant what does it say." griped Pfannee. Wynne smiled.
"It says 'Location and a damned good reason. Emilia.'"
"I'm assuming that's good news." Locasta questioned. Wynne nodded.
"Yeah. It means the estate may not have gotten raided."
Pfannee picked up her wand off the table and waved it. Another letter appeared.
"Go on." Pfannee urged. Wynne found a stylus, and began to write. After a brief moment, she put it down. Pfannee waited for a moment, then asked, "Good?"
"Yeah."
Pfannee waved the wand again, and the letter disappeared. The five waited. After a minutes, Locasta said,
"Are we really just going to wait? It could be-"
A letter appearing interrupted her. Wynne opened it and quickly read it. She nodded, a grim smile on her face.
"They say they haven't seen any irregular train activity from Frottica. As for road traffic, that is harder to tell. They tracked several different groups of soldiers, merchant caravans, and the like. They have Dogs on each one, but they have not seen her. They think she is being magically cloaked. However, the nearest one will reach Wittica in a few days. "
"That's where we'll meet then." Pfannee nodded. "Locasta, still go to meet Shenshen. Prep her for our arrival. If they'll be there in a few days, that's Saturday and I can leave after morning class Friday and be there by late Friday evening."
"Emilia said we can have a group of Dogs there too." added Wynne. "But where should we meet?"
Wynne and Pfannee looked at each other. The idea came to each simultaneously.
"Back to where we met." Wynne said.
"The Opera House." Pfannee agreed.
"And if we see an opportunity, we take it." Locasta added. The other two nodded.
"We take it, and save Glinda."