Previous Luther, Blackbird file.

Brennan came from here (and joins us further down this file).

Blackbird:
He was rather a stuffed shirt at one time. He's changed. Ariana maybe. Now his stuffing's coming out all over the place! But he is still very proper, if not so stiff. I am sure that even in death Richard will be neat and proper. He disapproves of me. I try to be a bad influence on him. It is the least I can do for a friend.

"Knightly knights get laid!" Oh, Richard! You're going to make me proud of you yet. That's almost a sentiment Sir Rabban could have appreciated.

[to Luther]

Don't *ever* say anything like that to Richard. He'd have a stroke. But he'd probably knock you senseless before he had it.

Hesketh:
Which would be a shame. Good morning Anchor, Sir Luther.

Narrator:
Blackbird whirls quickly to look up at Hesketh. She didn't hear a thing as he approached and neither did Luther. She reviews the last part of her conversation and files it away as possibly overheard. A number of thoughts hit her in rapid succession. First, Hesketh is wearing chainmail. Followed by the fact that it doesn't rattle when he walks. That followed by a closer look at the chain revealing a wonder to look at. Woven throughout the links of the chain are colored ribbons. The whole effect is to produce a muted version of the Hesketh family coat of arms and shield device in the mail. Somebody worked awfully hard to thread the ribbons just so. They also effectively silence most of the chain from rattling. The big man seems not to notice the weight of the chainmail, and Blackbird remembers how he simply glides on the dance floor.

Luther has sufficient wits about him to keep his jaw from hitting the table but not much more. Sir Luther? SIR Luther? The same SIR tones that Hesketh uses when addressing Sir Richard. Not the usual all but sarcasm Luther is so used to hearing from others. Not the spitting out the results of clearing your throat inflection that Hesketh uses when he's correcting Luther. Luther is so accustomed to hearing it said those other ways, it takes him a few seconds to process the difference.

Sir Luther. Said that way it has a nice ring to it. A fellow could get used to hearing it said that way.

Hesketh:
Sir Luther, your behavior this morning, even in the face of great trials is becoming the talk of the camp. It is my suspicion, and the beautiful woman next to you is likely a better judge of this than I, that if you continue in a like manner you will progress rapidly as Sir Richard has indicated.

Narrator:
At this, Luther laughs and motions to another chair near them.

Luther:
Good morn, Sir Hesketh. Please, won't you join us?

Narrator:
The timing of the message is off a bit, due to processing delay mentioned before. But, all present can plainly tell that Luther is not being sarcastic, nor abrasive. He's actually, genuinely, inviting Hesketh to join them.

Hesketh: [sitting, to Blackbird]
I am pleased most greatly that you are well this morning, Anchor. My apologies for overhearing your conversation as I approached.

Did you know Sir Rabban well then?

Nearby Officer: [to companion]
That batting around must have knocked a screw loose.

Narrator:

Blackbird is poised to respond to Hesketh when she hears the officer's comment. She turns toward the officer and gives him one of those "If you have something to say why don't you share it with the rest of the class" looks teachers are so good at.

Blackbird: [to officer, totally seriously, pitched to be clearly audible to anyone taking the trouble to listen]

Did I hear you say you were screwing a goose?

Hesketh: [to Luther, loud enough for the officer to hear]
The Traveling Anchor is reknowned for it's truthfulness.

Narrator:
The officer looks at Blackbird, starts to say something, gets his mouth closed and then turns scarlet at Hesketh's words. His glance shifts to Hesketh for a second and then he snorts disgustedly.

Nearby Officer: [to companion]
Just goes to show how different two different interpretations of the same facts can be.

Blackbird: [having trouble restraining laughter]

Hesketh:
My lady, I suspect that thou wouldst fare exceeding well in a Hesketh family tradition.

After dinner, on the first holyday of every month, every Hesketh family member that cares to sits down for drinks and conversation. Only family and closest friends are invited, people too close to take insult at a sharpened verbal barb. Each person has until sundown to load their conversation with as much polite jabbing as they can deliver with out giving actual cause for insult. Extra points are given for quick wit and the ability to twist the others' words. Losing one's temper is considered bad form, as is giving an actual harmful insult. At the end of the evening, everyone apologizes whether they need to or not, and votes their preference of the best wit of the night. I must confess that my mother and youngest brother are extremely better skilled than I - more than once I have awoke three days later to realize that I'd not caught the true edge to his words.

Luther: [unspoken]
So that's how they do it! The whole damn family has a reputation for being quick tongued and but yet careful with their words...

Hesketh:
I am looking forward to his aid when the burden of leading the family falls upon my shoulders.

Blackbird:
In that case, I thank you for your compliment.

You were asking me about Sir Rabban before, weren't you? I knew Sir Rabban. He was my friend. I knew him well enough to know that I didn't really know him. He taught me a lot about the two faces of power, in life and in death. The very day he died, he hit me in the face for slapping him -- smacked me clear across a room -- then turned his back on me, daring me to try to kill him. He knew he had power over me. And a few hours later, he threw his life away in an arrogant, pointless display of power. That was his last lesson to me -- pick your fights carefully. Don't show your power without reason. I'm still refining that lesson -- I learned a few days ago that it applies to horses, too!

Narrator:
Brennan gratefully slips off unnoticed and begins looking for Luther and Blackbird in earnest. He finds them sitting at a table chatting over some tea with Hesketh.

Brennan:
Blackbird, Luther - have you got a minute?

I'm doing the right thing, I'm doing the right thing...etc.

Narrator:
Both look up and smile, although Brennan is unsure whether it's with anticipation, amusement, or perhaps they're just glad to see him (right!) Hesketh smiles too, but it's a fraction of a second late.

Blackbird:
Certainly, Brennan! Have a seat! Did you have a nice walk with Beauty?

Brennan: [grins sheepishly]
Uh, yeah. I think she's less likely to be a nuisance now...speaking of which

I trust you're alright? You seem quite a sturdy fellow, but anyone would have been shaken up by such rude handling. I can't tell you how sorry I am that Beauty got away from us like that. If there's anything I can do...?

Luther: [unspoken]
Damn! This is a change. Never had anybody apologize for getting The Dwarf slapped around before.

There's got to be a catch here someplace. There just has to be.

Hey, no problem.

I needed to a good wake up, and I think I prefer even *that* to this coffee.

Brennan: [to Blackbird]
And I must apologize for Maia as well. She's not used to dealing with people, and one must make allowances... I'm grateful that you realized that and did not press her further. It could have been a very difficult situation had you not handled it with your usual kindness and understanding.

Luther: [unspoken]
Oh, god.

He's not dressed right to be nobility, he's definitely no Anchor. That leaves only....

Blackbird: [sighs]

I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, Jack. See to it that I made the right choice.

Narrator:

A small man in a cloak appears around the tent flap. he's some 20 ft. distant. His gait is unsure as though he's not exactly certain where he's going and his manners are those of a blind man.

His features are hidden by the cowl of the cloak; on his hands are leather gloves and not an inch of skin is exposed.

He seems to stop to listen for a moment and at Blackbird's last comment he turns and walks toward her.

Next file.