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#13
JUN 09 |
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“Fallout”
Remy LeBeau lay asleep on his stomach. His eyes snapped open when he felt a finger pressing against the area on his back where he had been stabbed recently. In one fluid motion he grabbed his bo staff and slammed it into the finger’s owner. He smiled as he heard a crunch and rolled over.
Jacob Gavin, the Courier stood there with his right arm hanging at an odd angle. “That was rude,” he said.
“Yo’ just lucky I didn’t charge de end of it,” Remy said as he sat up. “See how you bounce back from havin’ yo’ arm blown off.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve been through worse,” Gavin said. He screwed his eyes shut and with sickening cracks and crunches his arm returned to normal. He opened his eyes and tested his fingers. “That’s better.”
“So yo’ date for Saturday’s back on,” Remy said sarcastically. Ignoring the face Jacob made, he continued. “Have you been able to get back into de Assassins’ Guild?”
“You know, there’s no call for you being this rude,” Gavin said. “All I did was come check on you and get my arm broken for the trouble.”
“Well, I’m a little testy,” Remy said. “Gettin’ stabbed by yo’ wife’ll do dat to a person.”
“I suppose so,” Gavin said as he sat down in a convenient chair. “I’m surprised you wanted me to try and get in there. I would have expected you to use Souris instead.”
“He went to ground when de whole Guild War started up,” Remy explained. “We won’t see him for another week.”
“I see,” Gavin said as he crossed his legs. “So what do you want from me?”
Remy stared intently at the wall. “I need to know what’s happenin’ to Belle.”
Gavin’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I know de Assassins are gonna do somethin’ to her, I just wanna know what.”
Gavin leaned forward. “She tried to kill you,” he said. He thought a moment. “I don’t know what we are. We’re not friends, and you’re not paying me for anything so you’re not my boss. But listen to this. She tried to murder you.”
“She’s got some problems,” Remy said. “Don’t we all?”
At that very moment, Bella Donna had more problems than normal. Yet there was still a smile on her face. She was currently locked inside her bedroom. It was a cage, but a very comfortable one. She lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling.
In the main room of the mansion, Gris Gris was seated at the head of a large table. Other Guild elders surrounded him. He listened to their arguments as to Bella Donna’s punishments for betraying the Guild during her battle with her husband.
“My friends, please,” Gris Gris finally said to still the tumult. “We must decide on the punishment for Bella Donna Boudreaux. As you know, during the recent conflict between the Guilds, Bella Donna violated our most sacred tenets of combat. We must decide now on her punishment.”
The room erupted in shouts. Cries rang out for her to be killed or exiled. Gris Gris sighed inwardly. And they hadn’t even begun discussing who the next head of the Guild would be…
Souris stood once more in a place he despised - the New Orleans Police Department. Detective Alain Theroux again sat behind his desk, facing the information broker. The difference was - this time he had been summoned.
“We had no civilians lost during the recent incident in the French Quarter,” Theroux said. “Are there any casualties we have missed that you know of?”
“N-n-no,” Souris replied.
Theroux nodded. Good. So there would be no mysterious corpses to dispose of… “And the unpleasantness has been settled?”
“Y-yes,” Souris replied. “All d-difficulties have been resolved.”
“Good,” Theroux said. “Again please express my gratitude to the heads for allowing us to remove the innocents.”
“Of c-course,” Souris said. “G-good day, Detective.”
Theroux leaned back in his chair. He hated dealing with the Guilds, but saving innocent lives was the important thing.
Wasn’t it?
“He survived,” New Son said.
Fontanelle nodded. She stood before New Son in his Crystal Cathedral (as she thought of it). Around her, the silent Shadowtechs tended to their myriad tasks. “Yes, although not without a scratch. Bella Donna Boudreaux ran him through.”
New Son touched his own stomach in empathy. “How?” he asked.
“The healer from the Assassins healed him,” Fontanelle explained. “It turns out that Bella Donna let her anger get the best of her and she did this after the conclusion of combat. The Assassins are debating her fate now.”
“I see,” New Son said. “And the power of the Guilds?”
“The same,” Fontanelle replied.
“Thank you,” New Son said. Fontanelle vanished in a burst of light at his dismissal. When she was gone, New Son drove his fist into the arm of his throne. “So close…” he muttered.
Jacob Gavin, the Courier, crept through the halls of the Assassins’ mansion. So far he had encountered no problems - but who ever asked a question of the maid? He cursed again at his ill fortune with having to become a woman (something he despised, especially after his time trapped in a woman’s body, courtesy of the man who would become known as Mr. Sinister). He paused before the door of the main room and heard the argument. He smiled as he continued down the hall. It seemed that Bella Donna’s fate would be tied up for some time.
In her room, Bella Donna smiled again as she noticed the time. She banged on the door and summoned her guard. “I am going to the deliberations,” she informed him when he opened the door. “I have new evidence which will aid the council in making their decision.” Without waiting for the guard, she walked out of the room and started down the hall.
Jean-Luc LeBeau was meditating in his personal chambers when he heard the door open and close. He exhaled the breath he had been holding and opened his eyes. Jacques stood before him.
“I just came from visiting Remy,” Jacques said. “He is almost well.”
“Oui,” Jean-Luc said. “I visited him earlier.” Jean-Luc thought a moment. “What’s on yo’ mind?”
“Pere?” Jacques asked.
Jean-Luc stood to face his son. “You t’ink I was wrong.”
“Of course not, Pere!” Jacques replied, instinctively taking a step back.
Jean-Luc took a deep breath to calm himself. “I understand why yo’ not tellin’ me de truth,” he said. “Dis ain’t talkin’ to de head of de Guild. Dis is you talking to your father. Tell me de truth.”
Jacques sagged into a chair. “Why did you allow that Assassin,” he spat out the word, “to heal Remy? How do you know that he did heal him? He could have lied and poisoned him!”
Jean-Luc pulled up a chair and smiled as he sat. “So you’re questionin’ things. Good. Dat’s somet’in you need to lead de Guild. Never place blind faith in anyone. Here’s why. I’ve known Gris Gris for a long time. Tante Mattie told me about him years ago and we finally met durin’ de last World War. As far as how I know he wouldn’t poison him? Gris Gris is an honorable man. De Assassins were in de wrong. Bella Donna should have never struck dat final blow. His honor demanded dat he right de situation.”
“Honor?” Jacques was shocked. “They murder people in their sleep!”
“And we steal from dem in deir sleep,” Jean-Luc explained. “Sometimes morals and honor are different t’ings. Dere are people out in de world who’d arrest de lot of us for what we do - T’ieves and Assassins alike - and put us all in prison.” Jean-Luc stood and laid his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Jacques,” he said softly, looking into Jacques’s eyes, “I’m yo’ father. You ain’t ever got to be scared a’ me. Just come to me privately and be honest wit’ yo’ questions and I’ll answer dem. No consequences.”
Jacques nodded and left.
Jean-Luc watched him go with sadness in his eyes. Is dat what I’ve done? he wondered. Lead de Guild and make my sons terrified of me? Jean-Luc sat down and resumed his meditation. Now, however, he was troubled.
The doors to the empty mansion flew open and the house’s new occupant strode confidently inside. Dust rose from the floor with every step he took. He ignored this as he looked around the room, taking in its architecture and running through its potential in his mind.
“Excellent,” he finally judged. An army of servants appeared from nowhere and began their tasks - some cleaning, some moving belongings into the house - as he ascended the stairs toward the second floor.
The Antiquary had returned to New Orleans.
Remy’s eyes closed as he lay back down. Jacob Gavin turned down the lights and closed the door behind him as he left. “Incredible,” Gavin whispered to himself. “The woman nearly kills him and he still cares that much about her.” He shook his head as he walked down the hallway to leave.
Gris Gris was again trying to calm the assembled Council when the doors to the chamber flew open and Bella Donna confidently strode in.
“Bella Donna, this is most unusual,” Gris Gris warned.
“I come with additional evidence for the Council to consider,” Bella Donna said as a servant quickly moved a chair for her to sit it.
“Please enlighten us,” Gris Gris said.
Ignoring the chair, Bella Donna continued to stand. “In Candra’s writings, it has been prophesied that one man, Le Diable Blanc, would reunite the Guilds. We were told that we would recognize Le Diable Blanc from his glowing red eyes.”
“We have covered this ground before,” Gris Gris said. “We understand that you and most of the Thieves consider Remy LeBeau to be Le Diable Blanc. However, we must also look at his past. The Guilds remain apart. He was exiled after killing one of our own - your brother Julien, I remind you - and has done nothing to even attempt to unite the Guilds.”
“But he has,” Bella Donna said with a smile. “Remy LeBeau has always been the heir apparent to the Thieves Guild, regardless of the fact that that fool Jacques LeBeau currently stands to inherit the Guild’s leadership. Following the death of my father, I ascended to leadership of the Assassin’s Guild.”
Bella Donna’s smile grew wider. “I carry Remy LeBeau’s child. Within me is the living embodiment of Guild reunification.” As the chamber exploded in tumult, Bella Donna simply held her stomach and smiled.
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To Be Continued...
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