Augustus stares at Jacobus' new appearance for a moment, then shaking his head, says, "I knew that I was going to experience many strange and interesting things, and meet some strange and interesting people, but...well, this is better than I expected!" He chuckles as he sips his mug of bitter coffee.
Asif watches the administrations of Jacobus with a look of total confusion and dismay. Never in his 17 years upon the sphere of Aten's creation had he watched such a bizarre transformation of a companion. Thoughts race through his mind, are all Italians mad! The land of the merchants is one he can not understand. So much of the people actions based on guile rather than straight talk. Unable to contain his dismay he leans over and whispers into Rhune's ear.
"What by all the gods is that man doing? Has he gone mad? If this was the land of Aten I would say he has a touch of the sun. But as it is not, I ask has the rain soaked through his turban and waterlogged his brain?"
Rhune smiles and whispers back, "No, Asif, he has not gone mad. Jacobus is not exactly a merchant. He is a thief. Some thieves, like me, tend toward being quiet and unnoticed. But it seems that Jacobus or Dakath is a con artist. That is someone who makes his living being different people all the time and trying to convince others that what he is trying to sell them is something that they can not live without. If he were in you land he would probably try to sell your people sand. And if he were really good he may just be able to do so," she replies.
Asif shakes his head in disbelief.
"Rhune much sorry I be to see poor man, face wrath of the Civil Askars of Amnara. Poor fool suffer much at their hands. He be most lucky if he just loose tongue, worse may be his fate. Falsehoods much frowned on, I fear. In Amnara Aten blesses those who follow his laws and curses those who do not!"
OCC = Askars mean soldiers.
She looks at him for a moment and then chuckles, "Then it is good that he isn't in your land. We have laws also and they would frown on both me and Dakath as well," she says to him.
Dakath notices Asif's confused face and notices that his conversation with Rhune seems to be about him, judging by the way their eyes keep wandering across the small fire to settle on him.
"You seem to be confused about something Asif, perhaps there is something I can help you with?" His sharp hearing allows him to pick out the word 'con-man', at this he feigns mock hurt. "Con-man?" he raises one eyebrow, "my dear Rhune I am a consummate professional, the crimes I carry out are all marked by a certain flair and cunning, how else am I to be appreciated in my art? One day my daring shall be spoken of throughout the realm."
He chuckles to himself, "I hope those tales are told long after my body is dangling from a yard arm !!"
He leans back a moment a slight smile playing on his lips. "However, since our friend here-" he indicates Asif "-does not have a full grasp of our language yet, I suppose I could be labeled a Con-man."
He winks at Rhune.
She chuckles, "I said con-artist, not just con-man. There is a difference," she winks back at him, though the look she gives Asif when she turns to him is much different.
Asif returns the stare of Dakath.
"No Efendi, Rhune has explained that which I did not understand. Customs of this land often confuse me. A short month have I been in this land. I fear it has not been long enough for me to fully understand all that is seen by my eyes. After all as the Prophet AmenHotep wrote, he who does not ask questions does not find wisdom."
Dakath looks at everyone in the group "Perhaps I should explain, I have been considering changing my identity for a couple of days now, not only was I known by the Bishop's men, Jacobus also had a number of his own enemies. This change of identity, backed up with documents, I intend to forge when I get some paper will further establish my new identity. When we reach civilization a number of tattoo's and markings will make my change complete."
Augustus interjects, "That may be unwise...Dakath." He pauses to pour the remainder of his coffee into the fire. "What I mean is that if you choose to hire someone to markings, they can be...persuaded to reveal your identity to the bishops men. I am no artist, but I do have the equipment you need to do the work here."
Dakath looks at Augustus with some surprise, "You can do Tattoo's?? If that is the case then your services are certainly what I need. However, you need to be careful, to ensure that the tattoo can be covered If I decide to grow my hair, and change my identity again." He grins, "I think it is you who are full of surprises."
Augustus holds up both hands to Dakath. "Do not misunderstand me, my friend...I have the tools you will need to do the work, and the particular dyes are not difficult to fabricate...there are many berries and flowers nearby that I can use for that. The problem is that I am no artist...I am afraid that anything I might draw would look like the work of a small child, and thus not very convincing for the purposes of disguise."
"Now did you save me any coffee?" asked Dakath, who moves to sit cross-legged by the fire.
Rhune smiles at him and hands him a cup of coffee. "Welcome to the party Dakath," she says with a smile and twinkling eyes.
Dakath smiles and winks at Rhune as she welcomes him to the party, "I'm sure you can relate to my sudden change?"
Xania sits back in bemusement and watches.
Leslie seems bemused as he looks on the various stages of the transformation. "Hey, Jaco.. I mean, DAKATH, you know what would *really* help your disguise?" He looks around the room, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I could make you a *one-legged* spice merchant, how about it?" He draws his sword and advances towards Dakath with mock menace.
"But the we would have to change his name again," says Xania, contemplatively, "to Pegleg Pete perhaps..."
"Or hobbling Howard, or..." Just then Leslie is cut off by a commotion from outside.
Dakath turns to face Leslie "Thanks my friend, but my interests are best served with all my limbs in tact. But your interest in helping is touching, I'm choked."
While the group finishes breakfast and Jacobus makes his transformation you hear a commotion outside the cabin.
The sound of hooves approaching, a sliding noise, followed by a thump. "Uuugh......dio!....impacciato cavallo!"
Augustus nearly falls out of his chair at the sudden noise outside. He scrambles to his feet and attempts to peer out from one of the windows to see what is going on.
Augustus spies a tall slim young man. He has short cropped black hair and is clean shaven. He is hansom but with somewhat angular features and appears to have a resolving black eye several days old. He is dressed in black breeches and knee high boots, with a white puffy sleeved shirt under a burgundy waist coat and fur lined burgundy cloak. He wears a black bonnet with a wide brim and has a rapier, the guard covered with black cloth. On his back is strapped a lute. At the moment his attire is soaked with the heavy rain and now with a streak of mud on his breeches from the fall from the horse. The horse is a mahogany mare rather disheveled, and currently the man is knelt down looking worriedly as its fore hoof.
Rhune immediately grabs her sword and positions herself near the door, ready for whatever or whoever that is outside.
"Jac... uh, Pete, sounds like someone rides like you do outside," grins Xania.
At the sounds of hooves he become fully alert, he turns his head to regard Xania as she comments on his riding ability, but he can't help but grin. His skills with the horse leave a lot to be desired. "Until one of my limbs becomes detached from my body, I'd prefer to be called Dakath."
Xania grins, "In truth, I can remember spell energies but it takes me aeons sometimes to learn a new name. I will try for your sake, Ja...er, Dakath."
Dakath is in a crouch by the fire one hand on his staff, the other on the floor for balance.
Dakath stands and moves to the door "All of you stay here and keep out of sight, I'll go see what's going on."
With that he opens the door to the cabin and looks outside for signs of a trap before moving outside to confront the new arrival, carefully ensuring that the door is not closed entirely so the rest of the group can hear the conversation.
"Good Morning to you stranger, it's not a good day for travel I fear," he says as he looks to the sky before raising the hood on his cloak.
"My name is Misha and this is my Ferry, do you wish to travel across?"
Rhune barely stifles a chuckle as she hears Dakath/Jacobus' words. She silently hopes that the person outside doesn't know Misha.
Leslie advances towards the door, his drawn sword ready. Not wanting to ruin Dakath's subterfuge, he stands just inside the door, waiting to charge out at the first sign of trouble.
Dakath moves to the edge of the boat and jumps onto the bank "You look like you have the same luck with horses as I," he says in an easy friendly tone. "That's quite a bruise you have there," he says indicating the stranger's black eye. Dakath moves towards the stranger and his horse, "Do you think it's gone lame ?" he asks as he gets closer. "I can get my assistant to have a look at it for you?" he grins. "We ferry enough horses that it pays to have someone who knows what they are doing, good for extra business," he says with a grin.
The man who stands in front of him is rather small, before his hood was pulled up you noticed that his head was shaved completely bald and his right ear sports what looks to be a strange earring, his face is open and friendly, immediately putting the stranger at ease. His eyes are dark and bright giving the impressions of intelligence, a slight friendly smile plays on his lips. Beneath his cloak you can make out a number of strange flowers tied to his belt, along with a long sword. In his hand he holds a crude wooden staff that is decorated with bones and feathers. He appears friendly and unthreatening.
"Garak, get out here you lazy son of a whore and take a look at this gentleman's horse will you?" he shouts over to the boat.
Xania, on reckless whim, walks out into the day and slips her arm around Dakath, "Misha, you did not tell me you were expecting company this fine day." She grins at him impishly then turns with concern to the horse. "Is your horse lamed, good sir?"
Tag turns to Xania, his deep brown eyes, almost black, linger on her shapely form and as he looks into her mysterious brown eyes, she notices a fire behind his eyes. Then he realizes he is staring.
"Pardone, Signora Misha," Tag drops his eyes bashfully.
Xania smiles. She seems to be quite used to those kinds of looks and the appraising look she gives him in return is not the look of a properly married woman.
Tag speaks again, "Alas, I think she lost her footing on the slippery ground. Though I am no horse master she certainly has sprained it. She is very old, and should perhaps be out to pasture rather than ferrying young fools like me around. It was a very arduous trip across the mountains this last week."
Xania grows more serious as she looks at the horse's leg. "Alas, I am no healer. I just worked with horses in my youth," she replies. "Perhaps one of the travelers can help us?" She turns to Dakath, "You know, the one," mouthing Augustus when Tag isn't looking.
Dakath sighed "Where is that good for nothing son of ours, my dear? He always seems to be absent when there is work to be done. I apologize stranger, we are trying to raise a son who has a trade, but despite our efforts he is bone idle."
"He's such a trial to us. I'm not sure why you ever married your first wife. She was such a hag." Xania bats her long lashes at Dakath though the eyes beneath the lashes are laughing.
Dakath beams a smile, "But not to worry your horse will receive the attentions of the finest animal handler in the realm."
"Grazie signore, I am much obliged for you help. I am afraid she may be lame, she is an old horse and I have ridden her too far in the last few days. I have been following the river trying to find my way to Firenze, when I have become lost in this storm."
As Xania moves towards the horse, Dakath pats her bottom playfully. His face seems to be brimming with pride.
Xania turns and looks at him, "What, you didn't get enough last night?"
Leslie turns to look at the others in the cabin, spreading his hands and shrugging as if to say "hey, it's not *my* fault," leans his sword by the door within easy reach, slumps his shoulders, and slouches outside.
"Hold your horses, old man, I'm coming!" he calls out. "Wassa matter?" he says as he joins his "parents".
Xania smiles, "Dear, could you help me check this gentleman's fine steed?" as she walks to the horse with a definite sway in her stride
Xania and Leslie look at the tired old horse, which is a bit borne down with saddle bags, and note that she is merely tired, and was most likely limping along to keep from being driven to ride any further. Their diagnosis is that she will be as ready as she has ever been tomorrow morning.
Rhune is trying so hard not to burst out laughing at her companions and their deception. She kneels down next to the door, still holding her long sword at the ready just in case their act doesn't work.
At hearing Leslie's voice, Dakath turns around to face him as he leaves the cabin "Garak, you've been resting again haven't you!! You lazy oaf, you're too late to tend the horse, Cara's doing it so get the ferry ready, in case our weary traveler requires passage across the river."
He turns to the newcomer "You just can't get good help these days, we take him in and give him a trade and this is how he repays us more often than not."
The stranger scratches his head at the mention of his son and 'Garak's appearance. "Is your son adopted then signore Misha? I am sorry I have completely forgotten my manners. My name is Taglio Di Gondola." He bows low. "Al vostro servizio," he adds.
Dakath smiles friendlily at him "To be plain with you my friend my wife looks on him as a kind of son, you see when we found him his mind seems to be damaged, he acts as a child. It is the only way I can explain it."
"Well Taglio, you're welcome here," he says as he places an arm around his shoulder as he leads him to the cabin.
"Actually, more than a ride across the river...." (which looks now a raging torrent and like one would be hard pressed to get the titanic across safely). "That is we have come along way through danger and in this terrible storm, I was hoping to share your shelter and your fire for a while...... at least until we have dried out that is, then we can be on our way."
He indicates the lute on his back.
"I have no money, but perhaps I could play a tune or two to earn your services?"
Dakath looks at the river "I think perhaps we'll leave the journey until it's more conducive to our health eh? Cara will tend your horse," he chuckles to himself whilst leading Taglio towards the cabin.
"So any news worth mentioning? My only news comes from travelers like yourself," he says making small talk.
"News, Signore....only that there are foul humanoid tribes ambushing travelers crossing the Apennines, the weather appears bleak as you can see and the church appears to have gone mad with power and greed!!!"
Dakath opens the cabin door and leads Taglio in. Once he has crossed the threshold he shuts the door behind him and blocks the entranceway.
Once Taglio realizes they're not alone Dakath smiles, "As you can see, all is not as it seems, but don't worry I think you'll find them tolerable enough company."
Tag spies Augustus in his priestly robes.
He then goes totally white as the blood drains away from his face and he totters on his feet. "dio di elogio....pardone father I did not see you there....errrr....lord Jerboha forgive me, per favore." He begins to shake, bows his head, and crosses himself once or twice.
Augustus rises to approach the stranger, "Please my friend, relax, you have nothing to fear from me. I am in agreement with your observations of the Church. There is something very wrong within it, and I have been guided by Jebohah (Augustus' regional pronunciation) to this fine, if not motley assortment of personages, in hopes that we might discover what has caused this strangeness within the Church." He offers his hand in a friendly handshake.
Tag takes the strange priests hand and looks at him in a bemused fashion. "Father, forgive me... I am wary of strangers. If you are truly as you say, then I am glad. But, it aggrieves me to say that I have suffered some from your kind of late. It pains me for I attended mass often in Venezia and I was very friendly with our local parish priest. The tolerance seems to have gone out of the church, no?" He sits and takes the cup of coffee offered.
"Father, there are so many armed clergy on the roads these days. Is there some division within the church? What of the Pope? Can he not help in some way?" Tag bites his lip as if holding back some burning question.
"Please Taglio," Augustus says, "You need not address me as Father. I am simply Augustus, or Brother, if you insist on formality." He guides Taglio over to a chair and offers it for him to sit in, taking another adjacent to him. "I have learned from these, my new friends, and from my own subtle investigations...some of the horrors committed in the name of Jebohah. Murders."
"I know nothing of the Holy Father in this, but I do know that the evil reaches far up into the hierarchy of the Church, how far I am not certain, but I personally witnessed a murder committed by a Bishop. He saw me as well. I was called before him the very next morning, and strangely, I was transferred to the Churches central library. It was from there that I began my research into the strange happenings. I learned many things that I could not prove, but knew within my heart that they were truly wrong. It was then that I prayed to Jebohah for guidance, and he told me to leave that night." Augustus pauses and looks at the group around the room.
"This is more than I have told anyone of my reasons for my exodus. But there is something else that I have not told anyone, and it has weighed heavily on my mind for some time now..."
He swallows hard and clears his throat. "Since the night that I left the walls of the church, I have not been able to commune with Jebohah...I receive the ability to perform the ordinances, but there is a feeling of...great distance when I try to speak to Him."
Augustus senses Taglio's withheld question. "What is it, my brother? I do not mean to ignore your questions?" He reaches out with a reassuring pat on Taglio's shoulder.