MK: *Morgan sits at the servants table, an empty plate in front of him. Though he is unaware of any company, he talks to himself.* ...suppose I should write some sort of apology to Mr. DeWinter, though if I'm any judge, he'd rather have me hanging from the gallows. *Morgan pushes the plate away, before looking at it for a moment then picking it up and carrying it to the kitchen* Cook? I swear he's become more unreliable since he jumped into that portal. Damn magician. If I could get my hands on him… *He moves towards the door, picking up a tankard of water* I wonder where Mr. Black is.
MF: *Molly comes hurrying in, looking mildly smug, with a large blanket in her arms* Mornin' sir. I've done the great hall and most of downstairs. Is there anything else I should do? Now that we've got some of the old staff back, I seem to have more free time. Given that Mr. Black is needing care, that's probably a blessing.
HB: *A cough comes from the hallway beyond the dining room. The door open and a pale form enters* Good morning, Molly, Morgan.I can't believe i've slept in again, I'm not used to this, I'm sorry, I used to be the earliest one up.I think I'm making some progress, I found some interesting documents in the library.
MK: Mr. Black. I think given your condition, your sleeping late is understandable.
MF: What have you found? I'm sorry I'm not more use to your search, but libraries are more or less alien to me.
HB: No, it's unforgivable, it's just a cough.I think I may have correlated some dates. It seems that our Lady may have opened that thing the very time that the island comes into… erm I'm getting ahead of myself. did I mention the island yet?
MK: I have a sneaking feeling that I'm not going to be happy about this... what island?
HB: Ah, right, I hadn't. no of course, I'll need to get those pieces of paper that I… *realising that this means he'll have to admit _where_ he found the papers, he stumbles over his words* Ah, well, I'll write it all out clear, so that I can't mistake it when I tell, yes that's best, but It definitely seems to be because of Lundy… *Turns and walks slowly out of the dining hall, breakfast forgotten, heading back toward the library* definitely going to need help though...
MF: *Molly looks sideways at Morgan, trying to gauge whether he spotted Mr. Black's uncharacteristic back-tracking* He seems a little odd this morning, don't you think, sir? *She picks up the now warm blanket, and turns towards the door* And I don't think it's just a cough, I think it's Consumption... I've uhhhhh seen the symptoms before. Let's just hope he's strong enough to pull through, and that those staff who haven't already had it and beaten it don't get it at all.
HB: *Re-enters the dining hall, bearing an arm full of papers, and dumps them onto a long table.* Have you ever heard any stories about the island out across the waters west, Lundy?
MK: I hear the odd whispered mention when I'm in the port. Other than that, no.
MF: *Molly looks slightly uncertain, a bit worried that her comments on his medical condition might have been overheard* I've warmed the blanket for you Mr. Black, would you like it?
HB: Thanks Molly, I do still have a chill, but please, its Horatio, or Horza, not mr Black, that's just for guests. Yes, Lundy. I'd heard odd rumours but nothing conclusive, but I'm beginning to think that its related, You see these papers here, they're from the library from the history of coastal bird migrations by De- Sarr. He indicates that the migration patterns are consistent apart from when you can see the isle of Lundy across to the west, when migration phases seem to be offset, and that where the birds nest are offset almost a mile down the coast, you see… *He coughs, and leaves a spatter of blood across the topmost papers* Oh gods, sorry, I'm still a bit under the weather, I'll try and transcribe them after. *quickly tries to blot the red against the yellowed paper with a handkerchief*
MF: *She wraps the blanket around him, making sure to give him arm room so he can keep working* Before you came here, had you seen a doctor? I'm worried about you, I don't think you're getting any better, and I'm beginning to suspect you're iller than you believe.
HB: Thanks Molly… You may be right, but no,I haven't seen a doctor, I was busy in Castile and then the crossing, and it was a bad crossing. Don't have time to be ill - what's a doctor going to say? "I'm ill". I think we may have an answer here if only we can see it.
MF: *Molly moves to embrace him, a suspicion that such travelling was related to his continuing search, but catches herself in time and stops dead, looking awkward, knowing how inappropriate it would be* I'm sorry you've had such a rough time, and I wish I knew what to do to fix it. The last time I saw a similar illness the girl involved was nursed back to health by a very kind medical family. It takes time to get better with something like this, and you know that time permitting I will look after you as much as I can. Do you have time to tell us more about the island?
HB: *He places his handkerchief over the blood stains, and reaches out, takes Molly's hand, smiles* I don't know much time we have. What I've found so far, is that this piece on migration ties in odd patterns with what he calls the phases of Lundy's incumbency, and one of these is on the same day that Catherine and this Montaigne chap disappeared.I wonder if they were merely subject to a really bad case of timing. Now the only reference to Lundy I've found is the island, but that makes no sense.
MF: *She looks at her hand in his and smiles. Her gaze quickly flicks to Morgan, watching for her boss's reaction* So would there be a way of using the next phase thingy to find the mistress?
MK: *He stares at the hands intently before looking to his feet, sighing heavily.* Any idea how often these 'phases' come about?
HB: Ah… That's the problem. I have no idea, at the moment it's only a passing reference that ties in with the moment they left. If it is related, we need to understand how, and as you say, when another phase might occur. *He sighs, trying not to cough and looks out of the tall window, and speaks softly* We don't even know where they've gone, or if they're alive.
MF: *She waits to see if he lets go first, intending to stay put if he makes no move to pull his hand away* Well, if the sorcerer doesn't return, it's no loss... However I do believe Lady Catherine is alive somewhere. Cook came back, so I think she will as well, in the end. I just wondered how long it is before claims are made to the estate with her missing...
MK: *His face hardens, his skin mottling* _Mister_ Black, until I see proof of her demise, I will not even entertain the _thought_ that she has not survived. I'm sure I can leave the research in your capable hands. If there is anything you require, if it is within my power, it shall be provided.
HB: *lets go of Molly's hand and turns back to the papers.* With servants with such dedication as ours, she has, I think has the best chance one could have. But it will take more than us to get her back, it will take friends. *Looks at the papers spread out before him, a sweat is forming on his cheeks and forehead, glistening oily against pale skin.* Right, *sigh* phases.
MF: *She turns away, and picks up a glass of water from the table, and sighs as she sits at the main table*
HB: *Eyes slowly slide close, head slowly lowers, until its resting on the papers, eyes closed, breathing slow*
MF: *She turns quickly to Morgan, looking upwards questioningly, whether she should try and get Horatio to return to his room to rest*
MK: Molly, make him as comfortable as possible there. I don't much want to have to wake him. As soon as he awakens, call for me and we'll get him to his room.
HB: ... swth... 'therine. fsh.
MF: *She tiptoes over to him, wrapping the blanket around him tighter, and gently folding one corner over to support his head.* Hush now… I'll do a little quiet sweeping and cleaning, where will you be if he wakes?
MK: I'm going to meet a man at the church, he has some ale I had imported. I'll be back shortly. *With this he turns and walks out muttering something about Blokner’s Comfort*
MF: *She picks up the broom and starts to sweep. She always finds this the most calming work in the house, and feels that now, with Horatio at so much risk, calmness is not forthcoming*
HB: The swishing of the broom soothes and fades until it seems the lapping of waves upon the shore instead. Sand, pebbles, tufts of wild grass along it. And here, dark recesses, a weight pressed against the sand, no sharp edges, rounded. footsteps, several sets. Wearing full robes, all black, with brocade, wholly unsuitable in this sweltering Castille afternoon. Up ahead three figures, two talls, with bright loose clothing, and a third, shorter, thinner, dark clothing, and long hair flowing… Tries to run, but falls, feet tangling, his hands and head hit a solid piece hidden in the sand, a straight flat piece of driftwood, dry leaves on it. He tries to call out but the shout only comes out as a cough, the cough splattering tiny droplets of blood upon the leaves. JE... *the cough hides what the utterance would have been. tiny droplets of blood spatter the sheafs of paper he is laying on, head and hands on the hard surface of the dining hall table, his neck supported by something soft, a blanket trapping his warmth, bench leg trapping his feet.* *in a bare whisper* I won't stop searching.
MF: *She drops the broom in alarm, and the neck snaps as it hits the floor* Mr Black?! *She runs to him, looking worried* It's ok, you fell asleep. Morgan has popped out, but as soon as he comes back, I want you in your bed. For the moment, I'm going to move these papers, I don't think it's wise for you to try and work while you're this ill. Let's hope the next phase isn't soon, it took me a long time to get better from this point... oh. *She realises she's said more than she intended for anyone in the house to know, and hopes that in his condition his incredible intellect is slightly dulled. She takes the papers and puts them on the other table*
MK: *He returns to the dining room, carrying two corked earthenware jugs* What's going on?
MF: *Molly jumps, wondering how long Morgan has been able to hear what's been said* Mr Black has just woken up, and seems worse, so i think he'll need to go to rest.
HB: *looks wearily at the two faces* 're good people, we'll get them back together. Probably need a rest, shouldn't, slept late this morning. Don' like to ask, but could someone get me a cup of tea, I don' think I can make my own at the moment. Wish she was here, she'd help, see what I'm missing, find what we need in no time, learnt so quickly, so keen, full of life. We'll find them, find them both. We will won't we...
MK: *He lifts Horatio, helping him towards the door* Yes Mr Black, I'm sure we'll find them. You really do need to rest, take as long as you need. Molly, bring Mr Black a cup of tea, add some honey if there's any, and then come back here, there's something I wish to discuss with you.
MK: *Molly watches them leave, and heads to the kitchen. A few minutes later she pushes open the door, laughing nervously over the joke cook made as she added the honey. She knows who he was talking about, or has a fair guess. Walking to the stairs, she wonders how much more the loss of a child would rend one's heart, when the loss of parents wounded her so. She climbs the large staircase in the pink hallway, right to the top without spilling the tea, and through to a room a few doors from Morgan's. She knocks gently on the door*
MK: *Morgan opens the door, motioning for her to be quiet. Horatio sits propped up on his bed* Tend to his needs, Molly, then come back to the dining room.
MF: *She pulls the chair to the side of the bed, hearing the door close as Morgan leaves. She hands him his tea* I've put a little cold water into it so you can drink it straight away. Is there anything else I can do?
HB: Thanks, no. I've been enough of a trial. I'll have a rest and then look at a few more papers here while there's still light. *Looks around not seeing the work he was researching.* The papers, they are safe aren't they?
MF: *She takes his hand* I don't want to hear you say you're a trial. We like having you here, and you're good company. The others and me, we owe you our lives from when you closed the portal. Is there any better we could repay you than taking care of you when you need it? You are very ill, and I think you might have consumption. I've known people who have survived it, but only with care and vigilance of their nurses. I want to see you get better, but you have to take it easy and let me care for you. And once you're well, you'll be able to go hunting for the mistress, and your daughter. You'll have my help, of course, if you want it. *She lowers her eyes to the floor, looking ashamed* I'm not well educated, I can barely read or write, but I like puzzles, and having been able to use this to aid you in the past has made me feel much better about my lack of intelligence. I want to do the best I can to help, as you have always done for me, and the others of course. *She gives him a sad smile, tears barely contained* The papers are safe, and once you've had a sleep, I'll bring them to you, and fetch anything else you need. *She draws in a breath and starts to pull herself together* Ok, have a lie down and we'll see how you are around lunch time. *She lets go of his hand, and rises to leave*
MK: *Morgan returns to the dining hall, going momentarily into the kitchen to fetch an apple, a sharp knife and a tankard. He sits at the servants table, uncorking one of the jars he brought in earlier and pours a small amount into the tankard.*
HB: You're wrong. Intelligence is not about your ability to show what you've learned so far. It's about continuing to learn, and trying to do the right thing. And I can see good people around doing that.
MF: *She smiles at him, and then leaves the room, and heads back to the dining room, where she sits across from Morgan* You needed to speak with me?
MK: *Morgan stares intently at her, eyes boring into hers* I am given to understand that you hold an affection for Mr. Black. *He pauses, considering the best course of action* Now I am not going to forbid this, but I want you to fully understand that becoming amorously involved with someone perceived to be of lower social stature can be very damaging for the gentleman involved, and frankly very dangerous for his partner. In some respects you're lucky in that Mr Black isn't actually of noble birth, so you're unlikely to encounter murderous siblings, but I warn you, he is well regarded in this court. Your involvement may incur the derision of the other guests that frequent this house. I, and I'm sure yourself, should hate to decrease his standing, so I ask you to be careful and discreet in your conduct.I will not see this house brought into apparent disrepute. *He stands, goes to the kitchen to refill his tankard then walks out, heading for the great hall*
MF: *Molly stands there, looking like she's been slapped, her head filled with shame, guilt and embarrassment. Whilst straightening up the dining hall, she talks to herself* Well Moll, you've made a big mess of all of this haven't you? Your initial plan has turned to bite your behind, hasn't it? And if Morgan, who is so wound up usually with the doings of the posh guests, has spotted the flaw in your plan, you can be certain Horatio himself has. *She bangs her shin on a long wooden bench, and falls to her knees* Gods dammit, why have I got such bad luck? I never intended to be here, cleaning someone else's house. I wasn't born for this, but a cruel twist of ill health has damned me to this place, and it seems another may keep me here. *She gets up, and begins to work again, looking at the clock. She knows she'll have to wake him at lunch time, and determines to make her interest a little less obvious*