Rebellious Tendencies

[Meldawen]

Phaerin was already gone. Moving as though he'd rehearsed it, he looped the end of the rope twice around a marble plinth of some dignitary who looked as though he'd never eaten anything but lemons, and tossed the end out the nearest window, which overlooked a meticulously groomed garden.

He peered out the window. One might think this was to observe the surroundings and thus decide upon the best course of action, but after a moment he turned to Kjan with a slightly disgusted look. "That hedge is shaped like a herring. Idiots, all of them." Ostensibly he was referring to gardeners, not hedges.

"Right, this is going to be slightly tricky." Phaerin-speak for 'impossible unless you're certifiably insane'. He cast a hasty glance at the door. "I'm going to swing out on the rope, get onto there" - there was the tipsy roof of a belfry - "tie the rope to something, and then you can come across on it." He squinted out the window. "You might want to find something to facilitate that. Soonish. I think they'll get that door soon."

[pirateoftherings]

As if on cue, the door began to shake with repeated thuds. Glancing around the room quickly, Kjan grabbed one of the heavy, high-backed wooden chairs and wedged it underneath the doorknob. Not a very permanent fix, but better than nothing. At least the office had only the one point of entry to secure.

Kjan whirled back around, only to find that Phaerin was already out the window. While Phaerin looked for something to fasten the rope to, Kjan searched for something to make his trip a bit easier. To be honest, he preferred not to climb across a rope that was three stories in the air.

A particularly heavy thud on the other side of the door told him that he didn't have time for preferences. Cursing under his breath, Kjan glanced across to make sure that Phae had the rope secure, then climbed out onto the rope before his mind could register that he was some thirty feet in the air. With his legs hooked over it crosswise, Kjan began to pull himself across hand-over-hand.

He was roughly two-thirds of the way across when he heard a shout coming from the vacated office and saw several soldiers rushing to the window. He gave them a quick wave, then began climbing even faster. To his surprise, one of the soldiers waved back. And...smiled? Kjan registered the knife in the man's hand roughly half a second before he fell. Or rather, swung and kept swinging until he slammed rather forcefully into the side of the tower. Wincing, he hung for just long enough to make sure that nothing important was broken, then began clambering up the rope to where Phaerin was waiting.

"That was fun," he commented lightly as he pulled himself up onto the roof. "For the sake of my own mental well-being, I'm just going to assume that you know how to get down from here before they send archers as well."

[Meldawen]

"Nothing broken? Lovely," said Phaerin, who was on the other side of the roof peering down. "I don't see archers, do you? See, if they hadn't cut the rope, we could use it to swing down to the walltop. As it is..."

He pondered for a moment, infuriatingly calm in the face of possible decapitation, and bent to look under the lip of the tiled roof. "Aha. We can get down to that window, get out of the tower, and make it to the front gate and change back into our other clothes."

How they were going to do this without being noticed would have been beyond any reasonably sane person, but Phaerin Grey wasn't often described as sane. "Untie that, if you will," he said, motioning to Kjan. "I don't like getting stabbed by sharp point objects."

[pirateoftherings]

Kjan complied, then hurriedly climbed down through the window, all the while muttering something under his breath about incorrigible lunatics. One of these days, he really was going to stop doing things that were so potentially harmful to his health. Funny how he always remembered that resolution in the middle of running for his life, then promptly forgot it.

Mercifully, the whole castle wasn't on alert yet (though it soon would be), and it did take quite a bit of time for a pack of soldiers to descend three flights of stairs, reach the nearest exit, and run to the entrance of the tower, so they encountered fairly little resistance as they made their own descent. They did have to duck into shadows or act like they were searching a few times, but all things considered, it went quite smoothly. At any rate, whether by miracle or something vaguely resembling a plan, they finally made it back to where they'd stowed their normal clothing and ducked into an unused storage room to change.

"One of these days, I'm going to stop listening to you," Kjan announced abruptly, though none too convincingly, as he pulled on a boot. "Would certainly make my life easier."

[Meldawen]

"You do that," said Phaerin, a touch absentmindedly. He was riffling through their documents while pulling his boots on. "Nothing...nothing...taxes...right."

Getting to his feet, he stuffed their loot into his jerkin - where it bulged slightly - and stuck his head out the door. "We were meeting my father outside the gates...right. He should be there about now. We just have to get out there in time to make him think we were never in here."

He turned and flashed Kjan the grin that never failed to recklessly inspire his every doubtful accomplice. "You have to admit it's more interesting than sitting at home avoiding our mothers and making plans to be away for the next ball."

The storage shack was behind the long palace stables, which were just east of the main gate. When the sound of carriages stopped rattling along the thoroughfare, Phaerin listened for a minute and beckoned to Kjan. "Quick, or this could be decidedly awkward."

[pirateoftherings]

The pair moved hurriedly - though not conspicuously so - along the road toward the gate. At one point, a solider looked like he was about to approach them, but it took only two-and-a-half seconds of glaring like the aloof, self-righteous young noble that Kjan wasn't to convince the man that it wasn't such a good idea. Aside from that, the short trip went rather smoothly, and they arrived just in time to see...Lord Grey. Curse it.

"Well I say that it's compassion and understanding....Oh, greetings, Lord Grey," Kjan said as they came to a halt in front of Phaerin's father, executing a flawless bow. "Phaerin and I were just passing the time by discussing the attributes of a truly remarkable man. Perhaps you could loan your expert opinion to the debate?"

[Meldawen]

"I'd have to say discretion and intelligence," returned Lord Grey smoothly. He was a solidly built, well-fed man with hair that had once been black but was now rather grey threaded with black, and had every appearance of your stereotypical high-class, somewhat apathetic noble - but Phaerin's signature intense grey-eyed stare was not entirely unique to him, and one could wonder what went on behind the eyes Lord Grey had given his son. He indicated the carriage waiting nearby. "Shall we?"

Once the three of them had clambered inside and Phaerin had sprawled himself comfortably over half a seat, oblivious to the confined space, Lord Grey called to the coachman and they were off, rolling smoothly over cobblestones for a short while before shifting to the rougher road. Seemingly immersed in a long and tedious-looking compilation of documents (Phaerin recalled the wad inside his tunic and quirked an eyebrow at Kjan), Lord Grey appeared content to forgo conversation at first.

Presently, as they neared a patch of wood that made the setting sun flicker through the carriage windows with inconsistent brilliance, he put down the parchment. "Have an enjoyable time, then?"

Phaerin shrugged. "Aye. Y'rydha's ever interesting."

"Indeed. Sightseeing, then?"

Phaerin glanced over at Kjan. "A little."

There was another silence. Lord Grey went back to his parchment. A little while later he looked up. "Bit of a disturbance at the palace today, I heard. See any of that?"

[pirateoftherings]

Kjan shared another glance with Phaerin, then gave a shrug of his own. "We saw a bit of it," he replied noncommittally. "We reached the gates only shortly before you did. There was some sort of commotion going on when we arrived, though - something about two of the soldiers, I think." He shrugged again, shifting slightly so that he could look out the window."Nobody seemed overly inclined to enlighten two loitering nobles."

Lord Grey seemed satisfied by this answer - at least, enough to not pursue the topic further - and the conversation died out once more. It was a fairly considerable distance to the Grey estate, which was where Kjan would be staying the night. He wasn't particularly keen on reaching his own home in the wee hours of the morning, and it would give him and Phaerin a chance to look over the documents that they'd borrowed. And perhaps he could get a bit more out of Phaerin concerning what this was all about.

Various bits of small talk were made over the next few hours, but for the most part Kjan just stared out the window and counted the number of potholes that they passed. He was up to thirty-seven when the carriage finally went through the gates of the Grey estate and came to a stop in front of the main house.

[Meldawen]

Phaerin was out of the carriage as fast as he could stir himself to do so, having been not a little cramped during the trip. Lord Grey followed more slowly, and both along with Kjan had their coats (and in Lord Grey's case, his hat) instantly whisked away by waiting servants the moment they entered the expansive entrance hall of the Grey manor.

"If you would be so kind as to prepare a guest bedchamber for Master Armadur, there," Lord Grey paused to say to a maid, but Phaerin was off up the curving ornate stairs, waving for Kjan to follow. "Don't worry about that, Father," he called back dismissively. "Come on, Kjan."

The moment they turned a corner he pulled out the crumpled wad of parchment. "Right, let's see what's all in here. We shouldn't be disturbed in my chambers."

The reason for this was apparent upon entering. Flat surfaces weren't safe around Phaerin Grey. The top of his bureau, the top of the wardrobe, the seats of the chairs, several tabletops and the window seat were all strewn with his various belongings. Oblivious, he sprawled on the nearest halfway tidy sofa and tossed half the papers to Kjan. "Just toss the uninteresting ones somewhere."

[pirateoftherings]

Kjan draped himself across the nearest empty armchair and began flipping through his stack. He considered mentioning that it all seemed uninteresting to him, but decided that it wouldn't do much good. Numbers...another census...taxes...oh, look, more numbers....The reading continued in this manner for another five minutes or so before Kjan abruptly commented, "You know, this would be much easier if I knew what I was looking for. No, don't tell me: 'interesting stuff.'" He shifted to an upright position with some difficulty and looked over the stack of papers toward Phaerin. "Why the sudden interest in the bureaucracy, anyway?"

[Meldawen]

"Because," said Phaerin, looking up with an uncharacteristically - or perhaps characteristically - crafty look in his eye, "they have to slip somewhere. Somewhere, there's something that's, you know, telling. That we shouldn't know. That maybe the rest of the world should." He quirked an eyebrow and went back to the parchment, flicking out a single sheet and scanning it. "Hmm. What does that look like to you?"

It was a messily handwritten document, unlike the meticulous numbers in rows on most of the others. Phaerin squinted at it. "I can't make out much. Look, here's another one." He tossed them both on the floor, ostensibly in some sort of 'pile' to look at later. It was, of course, indistinguishable from the many other 'piles'. "Find anything?"

[pirateoftherings]

Kjan scrutinized the document for a moment as well, but couldn't make anything out. Of course, this could have been because said document was lying on the floor some seven feet away and wasn't even facing him. "Sure," he said vaguely, going back to the stack of documents. Taxes...inventory....What was this? Somewhat interestedly, Kjan skimmed over a document written in a hand similar to the ones that Phaerin had just tossed on the ground. Only half of the writing was legible, but....

"Phae?" he asked, frowning slightly. "Wasn't Silvryn the name of the late princess?"

[Meldawen]

"Aye, why?" said Phaerin, rifling through the thin stack he had left. "Taxes...census...more taxes..." he tossed them away, where they fluttered floorward, and leaned over to scrutinize the piece of parchment Kjan held. "Aye, Silvryn Seilhera." Snatching the pair he'd tossed on the floor, he squinted at them and reached to light the assembly of candles on the nearest table in order to see better. "This one's signed by a Lord Tarfort. I can make out...inventory? No, investigation." He turned the parchment over. "There's more on the other side. Is yours addressed to anyone?"

Taxes forgotten, he picked up the other one. "Here it says...no fruition...village...something I can't read...searched the manor house..." Frowning, he looked up. "What would they be searching for?"

[pirateoftherings]

"A lost puppy?" Kjan suggested blandly, moving closer to the light to read. "I don't know; you tell me. You're the mastermind behind this."

Shuffling through the rest of his papers, he produced another handwritten document. "Got one more," he announced, turning it over to examine it. "This one mentions the princess again, I think. It's not exactly the most legible writing, though. Can't be sure....Hey, what's..." Kjan trailed off, turning the paper at all sorts of angles in an attempt to read one part. "Huh. I always thought the Regent kept his documents in a gold-plated box or something."

[Meldawen]

Phaerin blinked once, and reached to snatch said piece of parchment and scrutinize it with some interest. "Would you look at that!" he said, sitting back with a decidedly pleased mien. "It is addressed to him. I wonder what it was doing sitting in a library."

Moving closer to the candles, he squinted at the first line. "'A report from the honorable Lord Tarfort of Willow Rise Estates'...so on and so forth...'regarding the investigation of claims that the late Princess Silvryn Seilhera may be'..." he trailed off, and blinked at it. "It sounds like they're looking for her...but she's dead, that hardly makes sense."

In perusing the rest of it, he would ejaculate intermittently and sometimes explosively. "Ah, here we are! Seen in Robinstown, it says. But they can't have seen her." He pondered this for a moment, scanning the papers. "This Lord Tarfort almost makes it sound as though...listen to this: 'My liege's suspicions prove without foundation, but should the princess be located I can assure you every precaution will be taken to ensure that my liege remains in his current position' - surely they want the princess alive, though?"