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Fiftypence said:
Anther great interview, and a fine update preceding it. I'm glad Antonio survived.

Thank you very much ! And I hope you had a good birthday !
 
Yes, we'd better not show we're overly attached to certain characters in case they meet a spearpoint to the face or get a horse thrown at them. 'Cuz you never know.
 
Zerch de la Opo: Thank you , sir ! ^^

Judas Maccabeus: Poor Antonio he's still a youngun ! So many little mishaps . What a glutton for punishment ! Maybe this time he'll have a stroke of luck .

RGB: HUSH YOU ! XD
 
canonized said:
RGB: HUSH YOU ! XD

Help! Help! I'm being repressed! Now you see the violence inherent in the system!
 
Lotus-6: Yes it is ! And Thank you ! Though Simon's Quest on the other hand ....

RGB: TIS ONLY A FLESH WOUND XD
 
But your ARM's off!

Double pun there: ARM is the shorthand for Armor in HOI/HOI2/HOI2: DD/HOI2: DD-A
 
ColossusCrusher said:
But your ARM's off!

Double pun there: ARM is the shorthand for Armor in HOI/HOI2/HOI2: DD/HOI2: DD-A

I'll have to remember that for the HOI arc of the story XD
 
Glad to be of service.
 
Working on a Collage of CAARdinals post as we speak and then I'll get working on another update after that :D
 
Hooray ! Second to Last Collage of CAARdinals post is up ! It's a great one too so check it out ! It's been a great opportunity to be a writer for Collage of CAARdinals so I hope you guys enjoy my episode over there !

EDIT: Next priority is to get a new chapter up :D
 
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Nirolox said:

Thanks for stopping by ! Always glad to get some support ! Very flattered :D . Update coming tonight !
 
chapter45tile.gif


Chapter XLV: Treachery​

January 31, 1583

The herbal steam rising from the bowl permeated the therapeutic atmosphere like a minty mist. For the decaying figure of Sio-Pan, the moisture succeeded only in turning his spotted flesh into a kind of translucent film which readily exposed the purple and black bile and poison that permeated his wrinkly shell.

The others within the room made their presence known to this meditating master by their stiff coughing and their unusual reaction to the scents and aromas flowing from that bowl. Like some witch’s cauldron brewing out an intense elixir of immortality, Sio-Pan rasped complete breaths while those petty mortals unable to withstand the stinging were all discomforted.

“My Lord, what would you have us do?” one of the men in the room asked while blinking as his eyes reddened in the sting of the steam.

Sio-Pan gave no answer but merely soaked himself in the scalding plume before peeling back his eyelids. A shaky hand was lifted and one might have assumed that such a feeble elderly poise was a sign of weakness—but indeed these were the same hands that pierced veins and broke bones. This particular arm pointed at one of the officers present in this cloudy court.

“Inform our Master the Grand Secretary that after the failures of his previous incompetent selections, I will take up the position at the head of the House of the Rose personally and lead the entire Jinyi Wei.”

The voice which emanated was still the same minutely amused voice of some senile old man giving himself a great time. Indeed, present with that filmy countenance was a smile whose only revelation was not just the latest instructions but the pillars of decay which were his teeth. Blackened and jagged from the prevalence of acid among these bones, it added an extra hiss to Sio-Pan’s language.

“Very—” the assistant coughed before continuing, “good sir, I’ll inform him immediately.”

“And tell him,” was Sio-Pan’s high pitched bubbly interjection, “that when I find that treacherous Obidos woman, when I’m done with her, I’ll make sure she won’t recognize herself in the mirror.”

There was a crazed giggle that made Sio-Pan’s face look like his skull was attempting to break out of his stretched skin. The adjutants were more than happy to leave but as they departed it sounded like a faint noise came from behind them. It was as if something was making a jumbled cry. In the morbid hideouts of the Lord of Acid where vagabonds and strangers enter but never leave, it was better not to ask questions…

---​

Along the periphery of the Imperial Palace, the atmosphere was quite different from that of a spy’s hideout; although it still stung the nose and bit at the eyes. No, this particular aroma was not from a concoction of dead matter but from the red hot remains of structures and dusty plumes of wrecked walls. This was the smell of a siege. Although the household of the palace continued to regale the court and visitors with their usual gayness, it was to be expected of such times. The Emperor—the Son of Heaven—could not be seen at all disturbed by the fact that twenty thousand Spanish troops ringed his Imperial Capital.

Indeed, it was left to others to do the brooding for their sovereign; individuals such as Master Ming, the Chief Grand Secretary for His Imperial Highness. His steely glare was not outside among the battlements, however, or even in the cozy abode of the royal court. Instead, this man presided over a much quieter venue.

“Sio-Pan has taken up espionage operations… Hopefully now we can get some work done…” he muttered as he leaned back against his tall wooden seat.

To his right, the delegate from Japan, Mori Ranmaru, hid his scarred face in the shadows of that dimly lit chamber. Like the name of this room, the others remained silent in this desperate of times. “Ming-san,” Mori began, “perhaps a realistic view of this situation can show us that resisting now would be hopeless… The more we wait the more cities they’ll conquer by passing our coastal patrols. Although we can surround them by land with our superior forces, we have no control over the sea.”

The thought passed through both of them like a spider laying down its abode. Slowly the sinews of calculations passed from the unscarred half of Mori’s brow to the Grand Secretary’s brain. “Cut our losses and regroup the coastal defense,” the Grand Secretary strategized.

His counterpart nodded carefully but also added, “And abolish this silly Neutral Zone. We need to be able to expand the Navy’s movements if we are to have a chance at isolating whatever gains they may win from us.”

Ming shot glances at the intricate maps laid out before him. The thought of having the Spaniards in control of two of the richest port cities in the realm would be a heavy blow… but perhaps only temporary. “And what do you think, Lieutenant Drescher?” the tall Mandarin asked the only non-Asian present in the collaboration.

Lieutenant Drescher lifted his cap enough to catch the consuming eyes of Master Ming. “Concessions might work if preparations are made for a future strike. But these victories of theirs are made possible by intelligence and you need to work on rooting out this ‘Guild’ that has come to the Spaniards’ aid. Although it will be inevitable that you will lose Beijing especially to a general as skilled as Schenkhuizen, it will not be the end. Know this, gentlemen: even as this monster of a country grows, there will always be those willing to fight against it. This struggle is far from over. Lastly: Lines drawn on a map will not be the only judge of success. If all else fails, there may yet be another chance to change destiny…”

---​

February 14, 1583

“I’m afraid I’ve rechecked the numbers,” one of the pages said, “mobilization against a force this large especially within our own borders will take three months at least if we want to make sure we get them all simultaneously.”

Jakob listened to this messenger while his eyes drooped. Weeks already and he had barely eaten reducing his once efficient frame into a depressed pale apparition that spoke of his deathly concern for the actions he signed into execution just a few weeks ago. It was not so much remorse, indeed he had to do what was necessary, but it was a sense of profound loss. His uncle who had been like another father to him would be gone.

“Sir?” the page quietly asked from across the table of that room which was quieter than its usually was—if that was even possible.

Jakob merely nodded and dismissed him. No good, he thought. He had held out the hope that perhaps the requisite men to take on the cult would be assembled in time and in position fast enough that he might be able to recover his uncle, but three months would be too long and already another attempt had been made on the remaining Timepiece. He needed to eliminate their source of information on the safe positions they would keep the Timepiece…

“No word on any activity involving the keys yet?” Jakob asked. It was a strange question not because of its content but because his voice came like a cold wraith that itself was drained of all malicious intent but wandered through the damp coolness of the Silent Room aimlessly hoping that someone in attendance would remember its existence.

“We are pleased to report that there have been no attempts at all at the keys or even activity near their locations, Master Jakob,” another aide from the opposite side of the table informed him. It was certainly good news, but not the kind he was looking for.

Jakob had waited for a little while until the very end of the meeting to ask his final question. In his heart, he wished he did not have to know, but his mind pushed his question forward: “And Sweet’s status?” He nearly faltered on the words.

“Agent Chun reported in a few hours ago,” yet another page answered, “He… has not found your uncle yet, sir.”

Jakob seemed to sigh some relief although the situation should have made him more anxious. He had jostled questions in his head about what he was doing and reminded himself that, in this situation, this was the right choice. “And where is he working now?” Jakob asked in the same melancholy inquisition.

“Toledo, sir, Agent de Guzman has tipped him off about a possible cultist site there.”

With the briefing over, Jakob lurched upward and dismissed himself from the chamber. The others in the room kept their silence in respect to the terrible situation that had befallen those charged with the defense of the Kingdom. As Jakob exited into the inner courtyard palisade, the morning light shocked his meager senses. His eyes squinted in the glow and his hand wearily rose to block the shine.

Wait! Jakob bravely faced the luminance with a bolt of adrenaline. It was still morning; the sun should not be up this high! The mirror glared unmistakably onto Jakob’s face and nearly blinded him but ceased as soon as his visage turned onto the rooftop of the opposite side of the courtyard. Seeing that Jakob had now gotten the signal, a silhouette put the mirror away and motioned to one of the Palace bell towers: a meeting was now arranged.

---​

Antonio shielded himself from the afternoon sun with his sun baked arm. Already, his tan had bronzed even further and his young form was a sultry apparition amongst the white sands of the beach. In a few moments, another wandering cloud would obscure the sun from disturbing too much his relaxation.

When that new cloud did not arrive, Antonio raised his upper half from the sand and held onto his bent knees to steady himself. As his vision adjusted from blue skies to turquoise liquid, his gaze fell upon the figure trimming the water’s edge. Nia had retired her usual taut leather attire for something more casual. The white tunic which she had chosen to wear flapped in the gentle breeze of the sea air. Seeing her strangely tip toeing along the white froth of the waves was just as enigmatic as his memories of her.

For the past few weeks, ever since he realized that they were not at all strangers, Antonio had been both wary and relieved about his island companion. Although Antonio’s memory was not perfect, everything that Nia—Antonia—said, he had some faint recollection of. The trips to Normandie, the Birmingham school which taught them at a young age the uses of deception and intelligence…

She also confirmed what he remembered of that young girl to whom he displayed childhood affection for. She reminded him that she was born to a Portuguese father and a Chinese mother in the, then, Portuguese colony of Rio de Janeiro near the south in between Leblon and Arpoador. Antonio eventually learned that when war broke out between Spain and Portugal, Nia had gone with her mother to China to escape the conflict while her father fought for the Portuguese. Nia’s father was killed during the raid on Leiria and her mother died shortly after from grief.

Having joined with the Jinyi Wei because of her obvious skills and training, she was furthermore promoted to instructor for recruits at the House of the Rose; a position which she held until given a chance to lead the entire House herself. That was where Antonio began to question things. Why did she give all that away… it couldn’t have just been for him, could it? He couldn’t help but feel a strange tingling feeling rush through him at that thought while he watched her barely touch feet with the water. Antonio observed her closely at first hoping to find some tell by which he could ascertain her true motives. All he could see, however, was her graceful movement across the beach like some mythical beauty… Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking… and when she passes Antonio couldn’t help but smile.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Antonio remembered Nia had explained to him during the weeks of waiting. “But maybe one day you would have me as one of your spies…”

The memory jostled in his mind like some imminent dream on the dangerous zone of becoming reality. “Especially against the Ming,” she had told him, “one of the reasons why I didn’t want to go back is because there are things happening there that go far beyond the simple protection of a nation… There’s something dangerous occurring that I can’t help but need to stop.”

It was these tempting tidbits of nobility and redemptive qualities that had kept him in tension between distrust and wish fulfillment. Antonio, while considering these memories, tilted his head at that playful siren making passes in front of him.

“It won’t be easy either,” she had said, “the Ming guard their secrets greater than any pagan puzzle and riddle and even with my help it will be hard if not impossible to crack them all.” That particular thought highlighted his consternations. Was this whole thing a riddle too? Although intrigue was his expertise, the feelings he had for Nia seemed to be as complicated as any puzzle…

“As a sign of good faith,” Antonio recalled Nia saying, “I’m handing over to you something I’ve recovered during my tenure in the House.” Antonio looked to his side and saw that object which Nia had given to him still residing in the sand where he had placed it. Indeed, Nia had said it was a puzzle that, if solved, would help give insight into the workings of the Ming secrets. Unfortunately, Nia herself said she didn’t know how to solve it…

Antonio had been grappling with the object for a few days now. Like some strange slap of hieroglyphs, it was a set of tiles strung together by rope and represented strange symbols… None of it made any sense… What kind of good will gift was this if it could not even be used!

“Antonio!” Nia suddenly called out eliciting a quick jump from the young man to his feet.

“What is it?” he asked looking at her but realizing that she was not looking back at him. Turning his head to where Nia tilted her view, he could see it too: a ship! Flying the colours of Spain!

Running quickly to a clearing near the tree line, Antonio grabbed a spyglass that he kept on shore and eagerly peered through one end. There was no mistake about it; it was a galleon and surface ships were already speedily approaching the coast. Nearly dropping the tool, he dashed to the edge of the water where Nia was waiting patiently. The boats coming in seemed to take an eternity as they rowed in the soft up and down of the calm Boracay shore.

“Duke Jimenez!” a voice called out. Turning his enraptured sight to his rescuers, Antonio found the voice that called out to him. Immediately, his eyes widened in surprise. The captain of the boat… it was…

“Renault!!”

interlude2.gif


Interlude​

“We’ll be able to pick up Lara along the way,” Hayato quickly announced as the van carrying them and the operators sped through the freeways of Osaka. With Rodrigo half stained with his own blood frantically holding onto his cell phone, his breakdown seemed to infect the whole crew into a frenzy.

“How soon until we can all get to the mansion?” Rodrigo asked stubbornly despite his increased fatigue. He could hear the van speed up and the screech of tires as some of the Lions’ vehicles accompanying them maneuvered around traffic as well.

“About ten minutes if we pick up Lara,” Hayato informed him, “I’ve already attempted to contact the mansion staff but I keep getting no response.”

Rodrigo could only groan. The effects of that brief conversation with Carlos seemed to tear away at his tired body. Not Tom, he thought, Tom is the key to all of this! Hayato extended an arm to help steady Rodrigo as the van swerved in one direction to make a turn pressing everyone to one side.

“Was that all that he said?” Hayato asked attempting to keep Rodrigo focused with some recapitulation of what had just occurred.

Rodrigo nodded and tried to recount the brief conversation in his mind. “He said Tom would die,” Rodrigo whispered in an entranced sigh. It was like he was more so talking to himself. Hayato could only look on before the van made an immediate stop.

Rodrigo straightened up when Lara hurriedly entered the vehicle and the door slammed shut. She was barely in her seat when they all began moving forward again. Hayato began to explain what had happened to the girl. All Lara could do was give a dreaded stare at the figure of Rodrigo leaning back in his chair with blood drying on his nostrils. Rodrigo managed to give her a look back and nodded in rueful agony.

Captain DeWitt was the first to enter the building with his team while the young men and Lara similarly filed in with a second group. Most of the building was secure within minutes despite its large size and Hayato, Lara, and Rodrigo immediately went into Tom’s room with Captain DeWitt above there waiting for them.

Nothing. No one was there in the bed chamber. Although there were papers and a recorder strewn across the bed, no one else was present there. “They couldn’t have gone far!” Hayato insisted as he turned to Captain DeWitt. Immediately nodding in affirmative, the large man radioed his team and he began to file out. Hayato followed in pursuit.

As all quitted the chamber, Lara moved forward towards the bed with her head slightly to one side. Seeing the papers arranged on the sheets, she reached forward and touched the edges with some faint curiosity. Rodrigo watched her curiously and then noticed her straightening up while her hand was still outstretched in apparent shock.

Rodrigo’s face slowly became tight through a smile. “You know where they are, Lara,” he said. There was no response for the shock was still permeating from Lara’s position throughout the room. Rodrigo didn’t need an answer; of course Lara would know—solving puzzles such as this was the gift of the de Fronsacs.

Chapter XLVI: The Gift (coming soon)
 
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Status Report: Oh my , looks like Judas Maccabeus got bogged down at work this week so we'll have him in the pocket for another week ! Get more time soon , JM , we miss our 'judy' ! So this weekend we'll be interviewing another distinguished guest here on Timelines: Fiftypence !
 
Good to see Renault back into action!
 
Shame about having to delay his interview... But Renault's back! Yeeees!
 
Grubnessul: Yep ! Best thing to use against a puzzle is a puzzle master like Renault !

Karasuman: Yeah it's a shame !! That silly JM being busy at work and all XD