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Jean's father seems to be a towering figure, wiser, more knowledgeable than anyone else (of course, that's to be expected, seeing as Jean and his siblings are young children in that memory) and always looking for an opportunity to teach others. It is no surprise, with memories of his father like this, that Jean feels a compulsion to prove himself, to move beyond his father's long shadow.

Jean's memory also goes some way towards explaining his sense of duty towards France. How could he not have it, his father has instilled it so thoroughly in him - probably from the day young Jean could walk.

Interesting update, in that showing the father helps us better understand the son.
 
Stuyvesant said:
Jean's father seems to be a towering figure
Click to expand...
Yep, and notice the capital letter jean use in his dream when refering to his father (He, Him...) ;)

Very interesting update. I like the Father for what I read here. Not to mention His open-mindedness about girls education. He's probably skilled enough to know how efficient an educated woman could be when helping in His trade. Will Jean receive help from her? :D

I also like the ambiguity of the relation between Jean and his father. We already knew about that of course, but it shapes more accurately in this post.
 
Very interesting Father, Jean has. You can tell that there is quite a bit of mutual respect between Father and children. I can only imagine what sort of lessons Father is going to be teaching his yound charges.

For what ever reason, you can tell that Jean's siblings (and himself) know that there is something special about their father, even at their young age. I wonder if the entire family is as remarkable as they continue to grow up?
 
coz1 Thank you. As I said, the idea of this has been living in my head for a while now. The trip in the carriage was a wonderful opportunity to find a place to insert it. And also, this is very much intended to have a further view of Jean, another angle, not only at Jean of course but also of those around him and the world he lives in.

J. Passepartout Indeed. I believe the technical phrase is that he is home for 'consultations' or similar.

Stuyvesant As can be gleaned from what is already out in the story, Jean's father has a larger than life quality. And had a very impressive personality, a sense of presence. In the above that is softened by his setting (his own home) and by our witness, but the sense of it is still there.

Nil-The-Frogg Indeed. I thought about how best to convey just how Jean views his father at that age, a figure of authority and awe, and it seemed to work without being too intrusive. As for education, as any decent study of history of the time would know, women with some useful education can be incredibly formidable. It should be remembered that Jean's father's grandfather would have been of an age to have memories of women such as Catherine Medici and Elizabeth I.

Draco Rexus Well, he certainly has a perspective on the various events that their ordinary tutors will lack. One aspect of things here that I wish to elucidate a little is Jean's education. Something of that I have described already in this most recent update.

As for his siblings, who knows? We do know that by the point we are 'in the past' Louis is in Versailles, but that Marianne remains at home. We put them both, after a fashion, a long time ago in this post if anyone wishes a memory refresh.

All No update tonight, though one is in the works, but I do havea question that I meant to ask and forgot. What ages do you think the five children are - Louis, Jean, Marianne, Philippe, and Anne-Marie? It is a particular point where I want to guage the impression I am creating for each of them, at this point in the story. Many thanks.
 
I am not going to put exact ages, but Louis is a bit older than Jean, maybe three years older, maybe not so much older, Marianne is the same number of years younger, Phillipe is maybe four or five at the oldest, and Anne-Marie is not yet old enough to walk.
 
stnylan: ...As for education...What ages do you think the five children are - Louis, Jean, Marianne, Philippe, and Anne-Marie?...

methinks that the children are about 2 to 3 ½ years apart, or so. that said, from the youngest, Anne-Marie is within 3 months of her first birthday, so age one. that puts Philippe at just over his fourth birthday. Marianne is about 7 and one half, Jean is almost 9, and Louis is almost 11. that is, the first three children are somewhat closer in age than the younger children.

as for education, you are spot on! ! :D

most excellent ! ! :cool:
 
Stuyvesant said:
Jean's father seems to be a towering figure, wiser, more knowledgeable than anyone else (of course, that's to be expected, seeing as Jean and his siblings are young children in that memory) and always looking for an opportunity to teach others. It is no surprise, with memories of his father like this, that Jean feels a compulsion to prove himself, to move beyond his father's long shadow.

Jean's memory also goes some way towards explaining his sense of duty towards France. How could he not have it, his father has instilled it so thoroughly in him - probably from the day young Jean could walk.

Interesting update, in that showing the father helps us better understand the son.
Click to expand...

Agreed... we get a lot of insight into Jean here through his remembrances
 
A most excellent update! Very satisfying.

I really like the idolic quality of the father (Him). Jean looks up to him, as a forbear, and a teacher, but... His father actually does something fatherlike with him and there seems to be no gush of emotion. Perhaps it strikes him off guard? Jean seems relatively reserved toward his father, even more so than Louis. Respectful, perhaps. Loving?

And their father seems to prefer Jean even to Louis. I almost wonder if it's because of the way Jean is toward him -- more mature than Louis? Perhaps more aptitude for the job at hand, which makes Father proud? Is Jean's reserve a valuable quality his Father recognizes???

I like that in the memory Jean can't hear everything being said. It represents either the fuzziness of memory (or a recognition that these things were irrelevant), or the length of the table at which they sat.

I would judge Louis to be about 12 or 13, I guess, with Jean being a couple of years younger. Kids those days, of course, were more mature for their years than kids these days. The eldest daughter, I'd suppose to be about 8, with the younger son a little younger.

Great work! Very atmospheric, as always.

Rensslaer
 
First, I apologize for being absent for so long. I plead personal issues have reduced the time I have for reading.

I'm delighted to see this continue with such strong prose. I know of few authors, professional or otherwise, who keep the quality level so high. Which is good, because a lesser author would have killed us with the frustration of not knowing what in #$%! is happening. :p


Jean's superiors seem very casually disinterested in what he's doing. I wonder if this goes beyond deniability... surely they know he's not riding off on holiday.

His father's visit is very like a visitation of royalty; the use of the 'He' alone tells us how deeply Jean worships the man. The dinner conversation shows how anxious the children are to impress him. We also see that Father is not lavish with compliments.

In short, we see how Jean has become such an alienated, driven (obsessive) young man. Makes me nostalgic: I recognize myself.
 
J. Passepartout Thanks! And I haven't 100% made up my mind for the ages either, so I am still working in terms of age-ranges, like you basically centred on how much younger or older everyone is to Jean.

GhostWriter The difference in grouping, as it were, between Louis, Jean, and Marianne on one hand, and Anne-Marie and Philippe on the other is definitely something I wished to convey - as you say they are a little more bunched up in my mind.

kingmbutu Which is, of course, exactly why I was toying with the idea of this update for so long. It does help provide another vantage point.

Rensslaer Well the fuzziness in memory was not specifically intentional - but then in my own memories I usually gloss over details so that is obviously why I did so hear.

I think you are picking up one the same ambiguity that Nil-The-Frogg mentions earlier, between Jean and his Father. There is no question of the respect, but there is most definitely a but...

Director Thank you very much for stopping by! And I truly blush - not that your praise doesn't make me feel all nice and warm inside. Well, I am semi-promising myself that when this is done, perhaps even beforehand, I will try to do something 'for real' if you know what I mean. Though I do not think I am quite at that place yet.

I think that is a reasonably good take on Jean's superiors, but add in that they also know (especially de Tallon) that there is really nothing that they can do about it. To that end the less they know, definitely the better.

As for the father, well, there is a little of myself there as well, since my own father (who is the Navy) was absent for fairly large portions of my childhood. Absence can give family relationships a certain intensity, in my experience.

All Just for the record I will give my own sense of the ages of the children. I envisage Jean as being '10-11', Louis as being '12-13', Anne-Marie as being about eighteen months, and Philippe as being '5-6'. All fairly tight ranges, and fairly well decided a long time ago. Marianne has proved more troublesome to track down, but in my own mind in the memory sequence I now think of her as a being a 'precocious 8'.

And with that it is time to post the next update.
 
Memory (April 1672)

“Are you sure?” I hear Mother say as I tiptoe up to the closed door.

“Yes,” He says. “They are old enough, and I am not sure how much longer I will have.”

There is silence, the sort of silence that has a sound.

“They were not happy in Versailles, though the King spoke for me.”

“If it were not for you…”

“Precisely. But I could die at any time – I am not a young anymore Catherine. I might fall from a horse, or a carriage wheel could break – so many things ordinary and mundane. Perhaps I will be infected by some contagion…”

“Stop!” Mother is weeping. He murmurs words I cannot hear. Movement. It is time to go. Louis and Marianne wait for me in my room, and I tell them what I learned.

The next day, after breakfast, He has us three sit at our desks. “Last night,” he begins…


The Past (18th June 1682) - Continued

Light. I blink as one of the barrels is removed. “Come on monsieur,” Gunter says as he helps lift me out of the space. The wagon is half-backed into a small warehouse. “Better be moving monsieur,” Gunter nods in the direction of a gate, “before they come around again.”

I take a deep breath and nod. “Thank you Gunter.” I stride out of the small yard and into the street, tassels of the past still entangled in my mind. They refuse to be dispelled by the glare of the sun or the crowd of the city. I walk through streets…


Memory

… and I sit at my desk, listening to Him.

“I mentioned a new treaty between Bavaria and Spain. I also asked a question none of you could answer. Now you know a little more I will ask again: do you understand why I have been summoned to Paris?” Louis raises a hand, and He looks his way. “Speak.”

“The Concord Father?”

He nods. “That is the beginning of an answer. Might your brother or sister further that thought?”

“Because they are scared.” Marianne states.

“Why scared?” He asks.

She holds His eye. “It’s a new thing, it’s a threat.”

“But what if I say there is no mention of the Concord or of France in the articles of this treaty. What threat might there be? Jean.”

I swallow. “A secret treaty, like there was once between Denmark and Austria.” My mind captures an idea. “They must think that way, even if it is not true.”

Father favours me, and us all, with a broad grin. “An astute point. There may be nothing more to this than is publicly known. Not all fear has a sound basis. Likewise, there might be clauses that are secret yet do not concern France, except in the most ephemeral way, unless we might profit from distributing that information in some fashion. Or the fear of something prejudicial to France could be entirely correct. That is, of course, why I was recalled, for the King wished to ascertain the truth.”

I squirm. He notices, of course. “Jean, you have something to say?”

“Father, why are you telling us this? We are children.”

“You are my children,” He defines, “and because I love you before you venture out from the confines of this house I will have you clad head to toe in the best armour I can forge: that is knowledge, and a sense of how the world works.” He pauses, “And that life will begin sooner that you think.”


The Past

I turn the last corner before the Red Lion, and slow my pace. There is a small crowd in front of the inn. About the edges stand four or five armed men. As I near I hear a woman wailing in her grief. Two woman approach the group, and one of the guards speaks briefly with them, and allows them to pass. He looks at me, and I recognise Second James. He beckons me to him.

“What has happened?” I ask in English.

“Not my place,” he answers. He catches the eyes of a colleague, and takes me by the hand. “Come with me.”

He leads me through the kitchen door – the same door he should have been guarding that strange night when I first met Old Charles. The corridor is full of people, standing in a silent, single file. One moment there are still, and now they all shuffle forward two or three small steps, and stop again like statues. They lead to a room with an open door. Second James leans in, and gestures, and from behind him I see a man stretched out on a table, and I feel the most terrible fear.

Second James steps aside and Red Charles slips from the room, breathing an apology as he passes.

“What has happened,” I ask, clearing my throat.

He draws me a little to one side. “My grandfather said to you this would be a convenient time to remove a problem,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “It appears he was not alone in that thought.”

“Is he-?” I ask.

Charles’ head jerks once. “But my uncle is. Murdered, by Martin de Faro, who is,” he adds, “the man my grandfather wishes you to remove.”
 
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stnylan: ...“But my uncle is. Murdered, by Martin de Faro, who is,” he adds, “the man my grandfather wishes you to remove.”

The Who, and now, a motive (which really was not needed... ;) )

does not the "de" in "de Faro" denote a member of the upper class? ? :eek:

OH, now that de Faro has struck, it means that he will be on his guard against retaliation. ::bummer::

somehow, methinks that Jean's job just got harder... :D

most excellent update! ! :cool:
 
Yes, it is easy to see now why Jean has such a calculating brain. It was much the same for his father and a strong armor he provided thus far. I love how the memory keeps at him as he walks down the street.

And as for the Past portion - Jean will certainly have an easier time of it now in caring for his task. Certainly revenge speaks heavier in a man's mind than simply "doing a job."
 
Now we find out who must die. Excellent, this means we find out why various other people must die.

Father's final words are ominous. I think he has been stung more than once, like Jean. But did he extricate himself better?

If Jean was only 10-11 in the memory, that makes him even younger than I had thought in the Past.
 
In a sense, I feel sorry for Jean and his siblings in those memories: they are so young and yet their father is almost indoctrinating them. There's a lot of pressure, great expectations for children so young.

I agree with Renss' point: it feels like Jean feels respect, rather than love, for his father. Which, again, is a bit tragic.

Father's words keep hinting at something ominous, something that will be his (professional) downfall. I wonder what that is, and when we'll find out.

Now (in the past) we know who needs to die. There's clearly something going on between the Charleses and this Martin de Faro. But what? And will Jean ever be told? After all, he is expected to do his job: it might not be necessary for him to know why it needs to be done.
 
Recalling Jean's memories, I wonder what could possibly cause his father to believe that his children would soon be thrust into the threatening "real" world.

As for Jean's target of the past... well, as it has been said, we now have the target, and we have the rationale, now... now we get to the plan and the operation of that plan. I can only wonder at why this Martin de Faro is having a dispute with the Red Lion clan, which appears to be a foolish move in my opinion, and just how Jean is going to pull of the removal of de Faro. I sense some exciting times coming our way!
 
Perhaps a gang war? I personally think that this murder makes the events less interesting, psychologically speaking. I would have been interested to see how Jean would have coped with a crime comitted without known motives...

The discussion between Father and children raises another question. What are the other siblings doing? Oh, I had almost forget that you were not writing a family saga! :D Still, for what we know, Louis is trying to manoeuver in Versailles, what about Marianne ?

Looks like Jean has a long lived experience at creeping in the shadows and visiting places he's not supposed to. ;) I'm curious to know more about his future victim and how he will deal with him. Given how rampaging he gets in the present, I wonder what youth's ardour will do... :eek:
 
All I just to make sure that people realise who has died! To whit: Young Charles, only son of Old Charles, brother to Mary, and uncle to Red Charles, Richard, and any other children there. We have not as yet met any of Young Charles' children.

I really ought to get organised to post a quick family tree of some of the Red Lion clan.

kingmbutu Just what I like, a nice full-throated vote of confidence! ;) :D

GhostWriter Not that Jean's job was particularly easy in the first place ;)

As I understand these things (which is only very loosely!) the de Faro is simply a locative surname (not that it also isn't used for nobles). How formalised surnames were in 17th century, however, I have no idea. Literally I believe it simply means "Martin of Faro" - as opposed to all the other Martin's around the place!

coz1 Well, to what degree revenge will motivate Jean remains to be seen, after all he has no emotional attachment to Young Charles. I'm glad you liked the memory down the street idea. I very nearly had him being almost run over by a cart, but decided I didn't want that distraction.

J. Passepartout Well Jean is very much only '20-21' in 'the past' portion so far - very wet behind the ears yet also most definitely adult.

Stuyvesant I would say there is no 'almost' about it - though indoctrination is probably not the best word, but he is laying it on thick. Lots of pressure, and lots of adult concerns, which can crowd out their childhood. I don't know if the respect / love angle is tragic precisely, and in that day and age it would hardly be surprising for children to grow up largely strangers to their fathers. To contemporary eyes I suppose it does seem a little sad, but as I went to boarding school from the age of 7 my own views are slightly out of sync with the majority view here. The pressure though - and the sort of pressure - is something different.

I think at this point in time Jean's father knows that one day something will happen, or at the very least expects it, and he is simply doing all he can against that moment.

Draco Rexus I suppose you could say that Jean's father just plans for things to be difficult - a lifetime diplomatic experience is hardly likely to breed an optimist in any age after all ;)

As regards to Martin de Faro you might well have hit the nail on the head. It may well be a foolist thing to do - perhaps because he is foolish? ;)

Nil-The-Frogg It certainly alters the emphasis of things. In truth, this is a good example of the possible pitfalls of writing on the wing. Young Charles is the only person in the Red Lion who has met Jean as Jean and not Giovanni. For fairly obvious reasons I wanted him out of the way. I suppose I could have just had him die ordinarily, but that seem such a waste. Likewise, if Old Charles can see the advantage of prosecuting a quarrel at this time, others ought to be able to think and do the same. Young Charles is very much the visible face of the Red Lion, a very logical target. Finally, it will further develop the process by which the Red Lion and Giovanni become bonded, a bond that will last for many many years.

The cooler, colder murder is no longer with us. But, consider this, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Perhaps this little chink of 'good' motive is enough to start Jean down the path that leads to his fairly casual killing of Bertrand in the present. He might have balked, but now ...? A thought to consider.

Well, in 'the past' we know that Marianne is still at home, and therefore presumably so too are Anne-Marie and Philippe. But I suppose an equally good title for this AAR, given what has developed, what be "A tale of two families"

Mmm, that would actually make a pretty good subtitle.

All Update follows, just a short one tonight.
 
The Past (18th June 1682) - Continued

Young Charles appears at peace. The only blot is the diagonal line across his forehead, the only visible mark of the attack. On one side of the temporary catafalque stands Old Charles. His daughter Mary kneels at her brother’s head. She has been crying, and her head rests on her hands, which are clenched together as if in prayer. On the other side of the body another in the long succession of mourners speaks a few quiet words to Old Charles. This one, a man in his thirties, just holds Young Charles’ cold hand for a few short minutes, lets go, and leaves, allowing the next person to enter.

Red Charles and I are standing at the far end of the room. I doubt we are even seen by the slow procession. As each approaches Red Charles whispers their name and place in the tangled web that I now realise comprises the Red Lion, all leading back to a Captain Simmonds when he was sailing for a failed King. It is a conspiracy filled with little people, yet it stretches throughout Madrid, bound through blood and the past.

It is not until after noon when the last supplicant leaves, an old lady Red Charles identifies as being the mother of one of the sailors on Charles’ last ship. The man himself died in the war, but Charles brought her here to care for her, along with so many others. The door closes behind her, and Old Charles turns to us.

“Giovanni,” he begins, and he stops, glancing at his daughter. “Mary.” She does not respond. “Mary,” he repeats, touching her shoulder.

“Oh father!” she cries, and buries herself in his arms. One arm holds her as the other strokes her hair.

“Hush. We will deal with this. Now, I want you to go with Charles and Giovanni, and have something to eat. I will make arrangements for his funeral this afternoon, and we will plan what to do after dinner.”

She nods, blinking away tears. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles, and those grave features soften. “Dearest daughter, you have nothing to be sorry for.” His hands shift to hold her face, and he looks deep into her eyes. “I will see you later.”

Red Charles steps up beside her. “Come mummy, shall we go to your room – more private.”

She turns, letting go of her father, and Charles takes her arm. She swallows, and allows him to lead her out. I move to follow.

“A moment Giovanni,” Old Charles says. We all stop. “Charles, see to my daughter. Come here Giovanni.”

I go to his side, as he stares down at his son. “I had not expected this,” he says. A silence. “Kill for me the man who ordered this,” he growls, “and I promise, you will never want for friendship at the Red Lion”. One hand grasps my own in a fierce grip. “Will you do this – for me?”

I swallow. “I will,” I say. “If I can.”

He closes his eyes, and his face relaxes a little. “Thank you.” He lets go, and turns back to his son. “Leave me,” he says, his voice cracking for the first time.

It takes me seven steps to reach the door. I open it, and glance back over my shoulder. Old Charles hunches over the table. His head lies on his son’s shoulder, one hand holds tight onto his son’s hair, and his body shakes with silent sobs. I feel a stirring in my gut, and my eyes tighten. I almost turn back, to lay my hand on his shoulder in comfort, but I do not. If Charles had been able to keep his composure a moment longer I would never seen this stolen moment. I walk into the corridor and shut the door, and leave the patriarch with his grief.
 
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