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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown

Ch 4-3, En Passant

The following day's ride was not a pleasant one; Evelyn had no experience managing a steed and was not accustomed to sitting on a saddle for any length of time, let alone hours on end. To make matters worse, the saddle was designed for long distance travel and was decidedly NOT made for a lady. Forced to hike up her dress, Evelyn's gown draped around her like curtains fallen off their rod, and her thighs ached horribly. To make matters worse, Sir Umberto was not looking well; his wounds had obviously taken their toll.

Despite his injuries, the Wolverine continued to persevere... and his attention remained on her and her son-- always. Having had little success at managing both her own steed and Theo at the same time, Evelyn had little choice but to give him over to the Templar, who somehow succeeded far better than she at riding double saddle and still handle his mount. Theo, for the most part fidgeted and fretted, but Sir Umberto did a fine job of distracting him by calling the kit's attention back to the fact that they were RIDING. Interestingly enough, despite how many times it was said, it always brought Theo around.

Mr. DeLaRocha remained with them the entire time. While the human freely permitted them the use of two of his horses, the swordsman kept hold of Evelyn's steed's lead the entire time... for her protection, he had said. While she was first hesitant to believe in his assessment, she quickly learned the benefit of the human maintaining control; it followed his own steed compliantly, and hadn't once tried to throw her.

In the end, she considered it just another necessary evil... not unlike the saddle where she was perched... so very, very unladylike. If Mr. DeLaRocha took notice of the vulgarity of a woman riding a man's saddle, however, he was gentlemanly enough not to comment. In fact, other than an occasional assessment of the weather, the human seemed completely at ease saying nothing at all... which made Evelyn all the more curious.

In the end, it was she who addressed him, "Why are you doing this?"

The swordsman rotated his head to glance over and back at the ermine woman, shooting her a debonair smile, "I apologize, Miss, but you will have to be a little more specific... as I am doing a number of things."

She purposefully worked to avoid imagining any snide nature to his comment and maintained an even tone, "Why are you helping us, Mr. DeLaRocha?"

The human let out a deep sigh, "What has the world come to when the selfless act of a gentleman is called to question? When a warrior, skilled in the way of protecting those in need must present a reason for doing the right thing in service to no ideal more powerful or right than that of altruism and--"

Sir Umberto had no qualms about interrupting the monologue, "It has something to do with those men and their gear rings."

Mr. DeLaRocha cleared his throat and smoothed out the mane of his steed, "I assure you, Sir Templar... the Mechanists are not a force with which to trifle."

The Wolverine let out a blunt 'ha'. "Mechanists? That sounds like a group of men dedicated to fixing broken down carriages."

The swordsman pulled his horse to a stop and turned in his saddle to regard the Templar, "It would be great folly to confuse the Mechanists with mechanics, sir... and certainly not something you YOURSELF would benefit from doing."

Sir Umberto snorted, "Me SPECIFICALLY? And why's THAT?" the Wolverine leaned forward on his saddle toward the human with a scowl.

Mr. DeLaRocha offered a wry grin, "Why... because you would be forced to tell the men at your Church that you were beaten up by a group of wrench-wielding bolt-turners." and he followed up the comment with a wink before kicking his horse to action once again.; Evelyn held onto her steed as it trotted after the human's.

The Templar quickly spurred his own horse after, "And what's so special about these Mechanist people then?"

The swordsman continued facing forward, but Evelyn didn't hear the usual smile in his voice when he was offering up playful banter, "Because, my friend... there are many men out there who argue that the Mechanists rule the world."

Sir Umberto's ears lowered for a moment, then laid back, then slowly rose, "So... what? Are they some kind of University group? Mechanists... they are taking advantage of the scholars' advancements?"

Mr. DeLaRocha was not precisely clear in his answer, "No... and yes."

The Templar's tone was flat, "You may like being a riddle wrapped in an enigma hidden in obfuscation, sir-- and I do use the 'sir' loosely... but I do not like deciphering wordplay in a straight-forward conversation."

The human's tone was immediately light-hearted, "Riddle wrapped in an enigma? Well... I dare say you have a poet's mind for words, Sir Umberto... and there was no hidden meaning behind my answer. No, they are not purely a 'University group', but yes, they are taking advantage of the UPU's discoveries."

Evelyn spoke up before the Wolverine could interrogate the swordsman further, "What do you mean 'not purely', Mr. DeLaRocha?"

The traveler glanced back at her, "I mean, my Lady, the Mechanists play a game far above the width and understanding of the University. There are members of the University who belong to the Mechanists, but if a man is a Mechanists then their loyalty lays there and there alone. Scholars who wear the ring are and always will be a Mechanists first and foremost."

Sir Umberto let out a callous 'ha', "Sounds like the University isn't the bastion of truth it claims to be."

The human smirked, "Then perhaps the same could be said of the Church."

The Wolverine's eyes narrowed, "And what are you suggesting by that?"

Mr. DeLaRocha shrugged without commitment, "If you consider members of the Mechanists holding sway within the University to be grounds of questionable intent, then the Church would suffer from the self-same affliction, my friend-- there are members in YOUR organization who are just as guilty for wearing the Cog of Fate."

Evelyn once again interrupted Sir Umberto's reply, "Cog of Fate?'

The swordsman nodded, "The ring-- the symbol of the Mechanists. Their order believes that they are the directors of reality, and that they choose the course for the world."

The Templar snorted, "No man is strong enough to control the world... that is God's own power and no mortal man can share it."

Mr. DeLaRocha nodded, "True, perhaps... no ONE man... but a single man might control a library... another man may direct the deployment of a city's guards... yet another could choose which holy book was referenced on a given prayer day... still another could be the one to set priority for foreign policy... and one more might have the king's own ear. What, I ask you, might happen if all of these men had the same agenda?"

The Wolverine flicked an ear, "Sounds like a far fetched conspiracy theory to me... if what you're saying holds any truth--"

"--and it does, my friend."

Sir Umberto drew his steed closer to the human, "IF it holds any truth, then they're so powerful that it would be insanity to act against them... and, here you are, hunting them. So, I am either to believe the words of an insane man, or to continue doubting you."

The swordsman laughed, "Your logic has a single hole-- if I am to be insane for pursuing such a goal, then either the organization is in my own head and you have nothing to fear..."

The human trailed off for a moment, just long enough for Evelyn to follow up with, "Or what, Mr. DeLaRocha?"

"Or they DO exist, which would confirm that I am indeed insane for pitting myself against such an obscenely powerful foe." The swordsman pulled on the reins of his steed, bringing it to a stop, "Of course, all of this conjecture means very little at this point."

The Templar likewise stopped his own mount, "And why is that?"

The human motioned forward ahead of the party, where a large group of riders were approaching on the road, "Because those men, Mechanists or not, are armed."

Tying the reins of his steed to his saddle, Sir Umberto quickly transferred Theo to Evelyn, "Stay behind me, Lady Evelyn."

Although she was still not entirely skilled and managing her horse, Evelyn did manage to transfer Theo to her saddle and keep her mount from following the Templar as he and the human swordsman moved their steeds closer to the approaching men; Mr. DeLaRocha had dropped her horse's lead. She shushed her son, who had started complaining of a sore bottom, trying to better assess the situation... and smiled in relief when she realized that the men were flying the colors of the Church, and the two Templars in the front wore the tabards of the Holy Symbol.

Sir Umberto let out a held breath, "The Church. A good turn of events, for once."

Mr. DeLaRocha shook his head, "Were you not listening to a single thing I had said? It is just as likely that these men mean you harm as any other-- if the Mechanists--" but he silenced himself as a single member of the group approaching them separated himself from the rest and drew nearer to them.

The man, a Templar based on his armor, rode his steed forward, raising an arm in greeting. Sir Umberto trotted his own horse forward to meet with him. The approaching stranger raised his visor, revealing the golden fur of a Retriever, and a pair of icy blue eyes staring out at the Wolverine. "Well met, Sir Umberto. We expected you by carriage."

Evelyn's guardian glanced back at her, then shot an 'I told you so' glance toward the human swordsman before looking to the fellow Templar, "We had a few encounters with some of the countryside's more... negative elements."

The Retriever nodded, "Of course, Sir Umberto. We will have you brought to the Cathedral in Newport to treat your wounds."

The Wolverine shook his head, motioning back toward the Ermine woman, "In time... but first I wish to see to Miss Evelyn and her son."

The other Templar raised a gauntleted fist, "No need. We will tend to her now." and the collection Symboled riders drew their weapons.

Evelyn was immediately confused, but that lasted all of a second before she became alarmed. Sir Umberto, far less hesitant than she, drew his steed back and put a paw to the hilt of his sword, "I was charged by the King himself to see Miss Evelyn safely to Newport. What is the meaning of this?"

The Retriever held his reigns in one paw, a sword in the other, "Sir Umberto-- you were tasked with getting this unclean waif and her misbegotten progeny to the lands beyond Graddin. You should know very well that the Church would never abide her kind beyond the guidance of the Priests."

Her guardian never wavered, remaining between her and the Church's riders, "The Church gave our blessing for this handoff!"

The opposing Templar shook his head, "This whore is a pawn in a larger game, Sir Umberto... when the people find that Lady Noriene is doing nothing to protect the roadways, and that a valued person was lost to bandits along the path--"

He was interrupted as a rock bounced off the side of his helm. Mr. DeLaRocha was dismounted, and reached down to pick up another, "You mean slaughtered by an armed column of the Church's hounds who then blame it on bandits?"

The Retriever nodded, and a quarrel whistled through the air; the human, obviously surprised by the attack, fell to the ground facedown-- unmoving. The canine Templar continued the discussion, "You have been wounded by the brigands, Sir Umberto, and will receive due honors despite the loss of the king's honored servant."

The Wolverine glanced back to her, and Evelyn saw the indecision in his eyes. His gaze met hers, and he looked away quickly, back to the dog, "I don't beleive you."

The opposing Templar let go of his reins and reached into a saddle bag. He pulled out a scroll and tossed it to Sir Umberto, "It is the will of the Church."

Sir Umberto caught it, and tore it open immediately. Evelyn watched the disbelief in his eyes shift to concern, and then anger, then disbelief again, before finally settling into sorrow. She held her breath as the Wolverine looked again to the Retriever... and, for the first time since she had first met Sir Umberto Marino, she feared him. She pulled her son to her more tightly, dreading her guardian's next words.