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= (CRP) A Changing of the Guard

--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


Following Destini through the wooded trail, Allan wondered at the second nature he seemed to have for spotting oddities and trends. Could that be taught? He'd have to say it could as he was certainly not born with the skill. Talent perhaps, skill? No.

"Right behind you"
he said softly as he followed Desti to the last assassin.

Destini
She led the way through the curtain of dark trees. Trepidation threatened to slow her forward progress back to the man whose life she'd ended, but she found it strangely easy to push the feeling aside. Only once they reached the body did her step pause.

She saw the corpse ahead and pointed the dark form out to Allan. "There. I pulled him against the tree in an effort to keep him alive long enough to gain information. Would that I had learned somethin'. We wouldnae have to search his pockets."

There was nothing for it now. It had to be done. She moved forward to assist Allan in searching the man.
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--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


Allan cursed in frustration, "Dammit! Nothing on this one either. We must hope Richard finds something or it is another, predictable dead end.

On the up side, you made a truly amazing stike, my dear. I am beyond impressed. The accuracy to hit a writhing target..." He nodded at the bolt sprouting from the jugular vein, "Truly impressive...."

He walked away down the trail in silence briefly,

"Did I mention I hate Holywell?"


Destini
She felt both a surge of pride and a feeling that Allan was unjustly praising her. "Nay, Allan," she said, shaking her head as they walked. "'Twas nothin' more than a stroke o' luck. I was dodgin' out o' the way o' his strike at the time."

Thinking of what Allan had said about Richard, she said, "Ye said ye knew this crew o' assassins. Delaney's boys. That's what ye said, isnae it?!" she moved herself in his path to halt his progress. "Which o' these is Delaney?"
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--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


Allan grinned, "Fair point. But I will take excellent use of luck any day I can get it. "

He walked to Desti. "So shall we get on about finding the next bit of.....luck?"

His fingers brushed her gossamer cheek as he turned and led the way back to where Richard awaited.



Destini
Destini closed her eyes and savored Allan's touch upon her cheek. It was like the shimmering touch of a butterfly's wing. She felt the song of the storm, the after effect of a blast of lightning. There was a charge in the air itself. There was a whisper as if the northern lights themselves had danced upon her skin.

When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Jah.

She turned to follow him, needing to say ... nothing ....
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--Richard.grimthorn
Grimthorn pulled a parchment from the longbowman's belt pouch. Reading the parchment, he realized how daft Barkely truly was. Not only had he identified Brightpoint and the lady MacKenzie for Delaney's boys, Barkley had also identified Grimthorn ... in writing. Moron. Grimthorn decided he would have to deal with him when he got back to town. For now, he would have to destroy this bit of parchment before Brightpoint and the lady MacKenzie turned up. They would never believe he had truly changed sides if they had evidence that he was behind this attack. But how to destroy it? Brightpoint was highly observant. And what he didn't catch, the lady MacKenzie often did.

He could burn the parchment but it would take time to garner a spark that would catch paper. Plus Brightpoint might sense the smoke.

He could waterlog it but the lake was far too distant. The longbowman had set upon a highrise. And why not? It really was the best place to fire from if one was firing upon a foe in the valley beside the lake. Still, the lake was out of the question.

He could bury it, but the moon was full and Brightpoint might see the newly turned earth.

He could eat it ... but ... well ... honestly?! No.

He could turn it into confetti and scatter the contents to the four corners of the earth. Yes. That would be the best course of action.

Grimthorn finished shredding and dispersing the parchment with seconds to spare as the attaches arrived at his location.

--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


Allan made his way up to the top of the rise where the bowman had found a vantage point. There on the ground was a very lifeless man who was obviously Delaney.

"Anything on the body, Richard?"

Allan's eyes darted about, looking for any signs of evidence in the area.

--Richard.grimthorn
Grimthorn shook his head. "Nothing of any help, no," he said, choosing his words carefully. Even on the dark, Brightpoint might be observant enough to pick up on the shredded bits of parchment about the scene. If he did, he would immediately pick up on any obvious lie. Grimthorn knew his words had to be perfectly defendable no matter how Brightpoint interpreted them. He wasn't worried the attaches might put the parchment back together again. The pieces were too small. Grimthorn had made certain of it.

--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


Brightpoint suddenly realized what was bothering him. There were little bits of parchment scattered about.

His eyes boggled in amazement.

"Idiots. They hire idiots! Delaney shredded to pieces some document or another here. Can anyone be so stupid as to bring awkward evidence out to an attempted assassination scene?"

He got up from the ground, shaking his head.

"We may as well go back to town and...catch up on some things.

Desti?"


Destini
She looked at the bits of scattered paper about the body. There was much to catch up on, much they didn't understand. Someone had hired assassins to kill them. But who? And why? With the parchment destroyed, they might never know - until more assassins were sent to complete the task.

She looked up at Allan and briefly wondered what else he meant by his outwardly innocent words.

The corpse drew her mind away from whatever she might have thought about that. "They deserve a proper burial," she said quietly. "An' I know we cannae give that to them." She didn't know why, but that fact bothered her.
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--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


"Aye, time does not lend well to a formal burial, though I intend to say the last rites over them ere we deposit them in the lake. It is for Jah to judge them now."

Allan lifted the fallen assassin up and turned back down the trail that led up to where they stood.

"Let's be to it then, the sooner this is done the better. The lake is deep near where I was ambushed and there are large rocks we can weigh them down with."


This was going to be a long carry and a large weight to take along, but there you had it.

"Richard... What was it you said we needed to chat about?"


--Richard.grimthorn
Grimthorn was not content to answer Brightpoint's question while still taking care of the five assassins he had hired to kill the attaches. He had been lucky thus far. They did not appear to suspect that he was these idiot assassins' employer. Grimthorn did not intend for them to ever learn that fact. But if he told them that until recently he worked for the other side, they might find it more convenient to kill him here in private and save him the trouble of a gallows jig.

"Not here," he said with a meaningful glance backward at the lady MacKenzie. Until that moment, he hadn't decided whether to tell both the attaches or only Brightpoint. Now that he thought about it, however, he didn't think he could deal with this new business arrangement if she ended up hating him for lying to them for so long. "Your point of speaking where assassins cannot find us was well thought."

--Deacon_allan_brightpoint


Allan noted the look, the tone and the words. There were things that needed to be explained and said and this hilltop was not the place.

"Right. Let's get this work done and head back to town."

He turned back to Desti

"Please gather medium size rocks when we get lakeside to put in their pouches and pockets. We'll carry the lot of them to a central location where you gather.

This will not be fun work, but it is needful. When they are ready, I will speak a funeral mass and we'll send them hence to Jah's embraces."


Destini
Richard's glance backward confused her, though she couldn't read his expression. Perhaps he was just making sure she was following? But then, they had traveled together often before now and never had he glanced at her then immediately away. Allan was right. Richard was behaving differently, though she couldn't place her finger on how. Had Allan been right? Was it possible her faith and trust in Richard had been misplaced? "There isnae much o' this that's fun," she pointed out in response to Allan's words. "But all is needful."

When they reached the clearing, Richard stooped to carry another of the corpses over his shoulders to the lakeside. Destini kept pace with Allan. "I see yer earlier point now, Allan," she whispered to him softly. "I donae understand what's goin' on, but Richard is behavin' differently."

They reached the lakeside and Destini busied herself with stuffing the pockets and satchels of the assassins with rocks and stones. She ignored the idea that she was ultimately the one that was weighing them down to the depths. Besides, it wasn't truly a watery grave if they died before hand ... was it?

She shook her head to rid her mind of such thoughts. This line of thinking was getting her nowhere. As Richard and Allan arrived with the final corpse, she began to weigh down the final assailant with stones.
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