Heir of Drachma, Book Two, Center Game - Chapter One

• Hey, Folks, What I have done to entice you all, is to print a copy of my fifth book, otherwise known as Heir of Drachma, Book Two, Center Game.
• I tentatively plan to print more here if you're interested. This is all while a try to get an agent for my project. Anyway here it is!

Heir of Drachma

Book Two

Center Game

Chapter One

Even to the alchemist, the underground enclosure reeked – of all the years of foul things, done in the name of captivity.  It was almost too much, with the stench and nausea increasing the stress of his own captivity. He was down here, as was the lass. He couldn’t even imagine why the men brought her down here. The only light that reached them came from a torch which was close to the entrance to the underground cavern. Gently, he spoke to her.

“Lassie,” he said, “What is your name?”

The girl turned her head toward the tall man who was sitting down on the lone piece of furniture, an old wine cask. 

“Me name’s Lisa,” she uttered, her voice hoarse from crying.

“Now Lisa, can ye tell me who your parents be?”

“Me Mum’s named Sylvie, an’ we’re stayin’ at the big house up by the castle.”

“And yer Papa…?”

“Don’ know me Papa.”

“Then who be the man you’re staying with at the mansion?”

“Name’s Patronis… Emile Patronis.”

That name stung him. And he had no way of conveying that information to Craycroft.

“Now I’m not goin’ to be in trouble, am I? Me Mum said I was not to tell…”

“Ah, nay, m’lass. You’re not going to get into trouble – not any more trouble than we’re both in right now. My name’s Melchior. And I’m an alchemist… do you know what an alchemist is?”

Melchior could tell that Lisa was relaxing her guard.

“Nay, I know not. What is an al… alche…?”

“An alchemist. What I do is to mix potions – ye know, if ye’re sick and such. These potions help ye heal.”

“D’ye make magic?”

“Nay, lassie, not magic”

“Too bad…”

“Well, I shall try to keep you safe, even though I have no magic.”

Over the next hour, Melchior found out that Lisa and her mother had been in the village of Armaugh, and had tried to find work. Ever since the inn burned down, and they were left destitute, they had been trying anything and everything, and then along came this Patronis fellow, with a plan. If they would pretend to be his wife and daughter, he could find work for them, and they agreed.

She could tell that he was an educated man, by the way he talked, but he pretended to be a simpleton, from the country, and the work they found was at the mansion. There were two men, a Master Guarneri, and a Master LeGace who set them up in their work, and were their employers. It all seemed to go along just fine, until those men just burst into the house, and took her away from her Mum. And then she discovered that it was Master LeGace who was in charge, and brought her over here. She just couldn’t understand what Master LeGace would want with her.

Anyway, here they were, at least for now. With the possibility of escape highly unlikely, they seemed to be at the mercy of their captors. They were on Dunnigan’s Isle – that much Melchior knew - but more than that he could not tell. This underground place had obviously been used over the years to ply the trades of trappers, hunters, and obviously tanners. There were some things from which the smells never seemed to disappear, and tanning hides was one of them. 

Lisa and Melchior had been brought to the island, just as dawn was breaking, and then they were marched through the forest to this place. The house looked no more than a small, unkempt cottage. And there were but a handful of men guarding the premises. But they were taken into the back of the house, where there was a small entryway, which led down into the earth. They were each given a small, stale roll, and a bowl of porridge, and then the doorway was sealed. It seemed hours ago, but who could tell, as there was no light, beyond the torch.

Melchior could do nothing, except talk to the girl, to keep her safe, but he was not at all certain if he could even do that. This was so like the Antoine LeGace he remembered, a man evil to the core, who thought nothing of treating his subjects with utter disdain. If there were anything at all he could do, but there seemed to be nothing. The time dragged on and on.

Eventually, the door opened, and a couple of burly men came down the walkway, and brought with them a fairly large container of water, with a single metal cup. They set the vessel down in their midst. While one of the men replaced the sputtering torch, the other informed them of the rules the two of them were to obey.

“Now ye’ll be here as our prisoners as long as Master LeGace wants. And, as prisoners, ye’ll have no access to the outside, for any reason. We’ll be feedin’ ye twice a day. And any attempt at escape, shall be met with death. Is that understood?”

“Oh, aye,” answered Melchior. But he was thinking of what he could do. For the boredom alone would be a sentence as stiff as any other he could think about.

“Very well,” said their captor, as he turned to leave. The doorway shut again with a reverberating thud.

For a while afterward, Melchior and Lisa just sat, and eventually Melchior got up, and went over to the water vessel, and got a cup full of water, and took it over to Lisa, who was crying again, and said, “Here, Lisa. Take some of the water. I know that you must ache from thirst.”

She took the cup of water, and between sobs, drank it down.

And Melchior silently prayed. He prayed for the safety of Lisa, and he prayed for his own wife and child. And also for himself, that he be granted some semblance of grace to withstand what appeared to be this mind-numbing imprisonment.

Frieda led the timid waif up the way of the winding stairway, to the meeting room that was prepared. She knocked on the large, ornate door, and was let in by Aaron.

“Oh, do come this way, ladies,” he said. “Craycroft and Kerlin have been waiting for ye.”

“Oh, thank ye, Aaron,” answered Frieda, and then, turning toward the small, shy woman, she added, “Ye shall be safe with these gentlemen, but I shall stay here with ye.” Next, she very gently took the hand of the young woman and guided her into the comfortable sitting room.

“Oh, please, Sylvie, sit down here.” Said Craycroft, gently. “You shall know that Kerlin and I are not to be feared, and are committed to your own safety, as well the safety of your daughter.”

Silently, Sylvie sat down in the chair that was offered her. Her lip quivered, and she found it impossible to speak. Craycroft noticed, and took his time with the woman, whose whole world had just been turned upside down.

“Now, my good woman,” he said calmly, “I do know that you are feeling lost and alone. So let me begin by telling you of what we do know of your circumstances, and then, as you feel able, you may correct our misunderstandings.”

She nodded, still not saying a word.

“What we do know is that you and your girl, I believe you called her Lisa, have been living in the mansion, that was once owned by Councilor Reordan, and also that you were in the company of one Emile Patronis. Now we have reason to believe that it may have been a man named Antoine LeGace who was your employer. Am I right so far?”

She again nodded.

“We also know that it was a pair of strong, heavily armed men who came into the mansion, and stole away your daughter. One of whom was a man with either white or very pale hair. Further we do know that it was Antoine Legace himself in charge of the raiding party, and that Master LeGace and about eight others rowed off with your daughter. And also, they took our master alchemist, a man named Melchior, along with your daughter in the boat, which we believe was going toward Dunnigan’s Isle.

“And let me tell you, my dear woman, that we are enraged by our loss, as you are by your own. But we do believe that we have the might of men to bring them both back to safety. And we feel that you might be able to help us.” Craycroft noticed that she immediately tensed up at this. “Nay, Sylvie – not with your actions – but rather with your knowledge. You see, we do need some information which you alone have.”

“Information?” She finally said. “What information would that be?”

“What we need is to find out from you is just how you came to be in the company of Master Patronis, and how it was that he knew of Master LeGace.”

“Well, m’lord, if ye must know, I worked at the inn in Armaugh, when it burned down.”

“Aye, Sylvie, I did hear of that,” Kerlin noted. “That was truly a disaster, and was not one of the employed killed in that fire?”

“Oh, aye, m’lord. It was one o’ the kitchen maids, named Lydia, and such a wonderful woman, too. She was the one to come early, and to make the dough for the day’s bread.”

“And such a loss it was,” continued Kerlin, “but tell me Sylvie, how it was that you came to be working at the inn. For I hear tell that you were widowed…”

“Oh, m’lord, d’ye truly want to hear of me life ere that? Fer it is but a sad tale, and one of which there be no truly heroic ends.”

“Aye, Sylvie. We do wish to hear of it. Please do go on.”

“Well, then I shall tell ye me own tale. To begin – startin’ in Ireland - it was but a year ere me own Lisa was born. I had met a most charmin’ man, who just simply swept me off me feet. And we were so happy, just bein’ in love, an’ not carin’ fer nothin’. Those were such good times, m’lords, that to e’en think on them now does give me some peace. But then I got pregnant wi’ me Lisa, and it was about this time that me man lost his job wi’ the brotherhood. And we were out upon the streets, lookin’ every day fer jobs – just any kind o’ job.

“As ye can imagine, our money got to be runnin’ out, and here I was, gettin’ bigger by the day. It was about this time when we were just almost penniless, with no jobs available, that we came upon an elderly knight, who had just lost his own wife, an’ when he saw me, he took pity on me, and then made an offer that me husband could hardly refuse. He offered to take me in, and to provide fer me care, and fer me newborn babe. In exchange, me husband would have to release me, and to tell no one about the arrangement. He got paid a handsome sum. I tearfully bade him farewell, and then he walked out o’ me life. And it turned out that Lisa was born, an’ we were at the very least content in his own home in Ireland. Mind ye, I did miss me Chauncey, every day…”

“Chauncey, did you say Chauncey?” asked a startled Craycroft.

“Oh, aye. Chauncey was his name.”

“Could you describe him for me?”

“Ye ask if I could describe the man who is the father o’ me child? It’s hard to do – he is a man of average height, with what was once dark brown hair, and a beard that used to have a little gray. Oh, I can see him in me mind’s eye, but to describe him…”

“Ah, good woman, you have no need, for so it is with most descriptions of persons – despite the fact of years in the other’s company – one cannot provide a description that would make another recognize him. But one look at Chauncey and you do forever recognize him.”

“As it is, kind sir, with me own. But do ye ask because ye’ve seen my Chauncey?” She asked with tears in her eyes. “Is he here upon this isle?”

“I do believe that he is, but alas, he is presently on a mission on the interior. And I know not when he shall return.” Craycroft continued. “But tell me if you will, just how it is that you are no longer wed (if I may use that term loosely), to that elderly Irish knight?”

“I do owe me freedom to the earl of Derrymoor…”

At that name, both of the men in the room startled.

“Did you say, the earl of Derrymoor, good woman?” Kerlin asked, taken aback. “For it is that very earl who represents us to the crown. And it is he whom we have asked for aid.”

“Aye, good sir, one and the same. He himself said that it was to Shepperton that we should go. It seems that Chauncey had with him a title to some land, and even when we were almost penniless, he would na’ give it up. And that land was on Shepperton Island. So the earl, he did arrange our own transport across the channel, and saw to it that Lisa n’ I were upon that boat.”

“And who was that knight, from whose clutches you were spared?” Kerlin asked again.

“Ah, kind sir,” she replied, “that I canna’ say, fer I did promise the earl that I would not repeat his name, after he bought me freedom.”

“Bought your freedom?” Craycroft puzzled for a moment, “’twould be very like the same earl whom we both know and love.”

There was a knock on the door and Aaron let in a servant, who carried a tray with fruits, cheeses and fresh bread. The servant girl curtsied, and placed the tray on the table next to Sylvie.

“Thank you, Melitta,” said Craycroft. Then, as Melitta quietly and quickly made her exit, he turned to Sylvie, and spoke. “Now, Sylvie, please take some of this bread and fruit. And what you do not eat now, you may take back with you.” He then poured four tumblers of brandy, and he offered them to all in the room.

“Oh, m’lord, Ye be too kind t’ me. Ne’er have I been treated with so much kindness.” Tears escaped her eyes, flowing over her ruddy cheeks.

“It is well, Sylvie, for your own sorrow is great. I can but offer thee a place in our castle, and some work as well. For it would appear that one of our own, a woman named Clarice, has been mightily injured by your Master Patronis. And you shall meet her after you leave here. And, be assured that your daughter, as well as our own Melchior, shall be returned safely, else woe to those that would do them harm.”

“Oh, aye to that!” Came Kerlin’s response. “But let me ask you another question, if I might.”

“Of course, sire…”

“It would appear that there is one more person about whom you may know something. And that would be a certain Master Guarneri…”

“Oh, aye, Master Kerlin, that is one who has been workin’ wi’ Master LeGace. An’ I canna’ tell ye much, but what I can tell ye is that he is but a mystery to me. At the first, he seemed to just be one o’ them, ye know, high an’ mighty types. But after me Lisa was stolen away, he seemed to reach his hand out to me, and to provide some comfort. But then, he goes off wi’ Master Patronis, and leaves me in that house, and then those guards, they just come, an’ they beat me, and left me tied up…”

“Ah, my good woman, that, too shall LeGace answer for. But, as you say, our man of mystery, Master Guarneri, it seems is now in camp with your Master Patronis, and just what they are after we do not know.”

“Might I suggest something, sire?” She asked.

“Of course…”

“One who Master Patronis mentioned as very important, was a Master Robert. And I do know that Emile did bring back with ‘im some papers, one evenin’. And I do believe that these papers were somethin’ very important to Master Robert. And I overheard some o’ what they were discussin’, an’ it involved Master Robert and his lady.”

“And it would appear,” said Craycroft, “that our own Melchior would be the one to talk to about that, if Melchior were still with us. And it is my fervent hope that Melchior and your own Lisa shall be shortly among us once more. Well now, my good woman, it would appear that you have given us knowledge of things we do need to keep in mind. And for this I thank thee.”

Frieda, who had been silent through the session, drained her brandy, and then turned to Sylvie, and said, “Now what did I tell ye, Sylvie – these were gentlemen, whom ye could trust. Now come wi’ me, and I’ll show ye to Clarice, and then I shall show ye where ye’ll be astayin’.”

After she had gathered up the cheese, fruit and bread, and offered her humble thanks, the two women left. Craycroft and Kerlin quickly talked over what they had learned from their encounter with Sylvie. It seemed that were too many coincidences at work to attribute all this to chance. Yet they needed to set into motion plans to find out where Guarneri and Patronis went, and what they were up to. And they needed to get a message to Tom, who had been dispatched again, with news of their latest findings.

“I’ll have you know,” Craycroft thought aloud, “I was just thinking back to that time, in winter, some four and a half years ago, when I got called out of my bed in the night. It was ostensibly to take care of my dear friend, Felicia. However I could feel the same hand of fate bearing down upon me as I feel today.”

“Aye, m’liege – ‘twas the same hand. Of that I am certain.”